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Late Mourning
A shadow of a doubt,
its whereabouts haunt me.
Its trappings are tawdry;
like an urn wrapped in minks.
It stinks of the gaudy,
the failed orthodoxy;
the heretic reprieve
that promised me good things.
A shadow of a doubt,
its whereabouts haunt me.
Its trappings are tawdry;
like an urn wrapped in minks.
It stinks of the gaudy,
the failed orthodoxy;
the heretic reprieve
that promised me good things.
