Decoy
This firing down, some pestilence consign
does mitigate my virtue with design,
not far away, I miss your salt's excel,
your truth at feelings, ridden with expel!
Do love you more while hidden with repel,
my sheathing tight, an object placed to fool
that hunter of my soul ~ Thy love's compel
does bring to life this decoy from faith's hell!
. . . And carries me to righteous wing's refuel!
Copyright © Paula Larson | Year Posted 2007
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