The Art of Persausion
The art of persuasion was her forte
The art was most masterful on the dark canvas
of night, in dimly lit places where smoky rhythms play
With a subtle gleam of seduction in her eyes
and a mystery in her smile
No man could resist her charms
But, her heart was not made of stone
Her armor was vulnerable
to the magic that is love
For love could not be dethroned
But love has its thorns, that belie its fragrant rose
Could she stand heartbreak and the pain it would impose
Could she stand the tears that would inevitably flow
Or could she persuade love not to go?
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