Unknown Fate

Subtle scent of love

Delicate lips and rouge

Plucked by a handsome hand

And she became his muse.

She vanished in a day or two

No one knows what fate befell

Crushed for fragrance or potpourri ?

No one can ever tell.

A pressed flower as a keepsake?

Did he burn her petals whole?

Or may be an offering at the altar?

As he prayed to save his soul…

— that mishmash

 

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