Antithesis
In May, the lion’s ear blooms immaculately,
As if the night sky is on fire.
It excretes a ravishing untarnished beauty,
A mesmerizing compelling beauty
Only the mad mystics and poets can discern.
Here, put on these rubber sandals;
The pair with the ostrich plumes,
For the walkway to my hidden tower is replete,
With thorns, bristles and stickers; the ladder there
Has...
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