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Transitions and a Youth's Misconception

A pane of rosy coloration,
A shield leaving me untainted,
A dove resting in vague temptation,
and naturally, it shatters.

Before my mind can recognize,
Before my eyes can sense the lies,
Before my heart can say goodbye,
the columbidae escapes.

Confronting the truth is no simple task,
Comforting thoughts were not meant to last,
Contorting the sweet memories of my past,
as I stumble among the shards.

Darkness fills my field of view,
Demons make a grand debut,
Demented fears directly ensue,
for the dove has lost its way.

Emerging truths and realization,
Engulfing me in exasperation,
Enchanting apocryphal expectations,
and I believed I would be freed.

Falling seemingly in slow motion,
Forgetting all childly devotion,
Feelings of subtle notion,
and perhaps I've mistaken.

Generally it is unbelievable,
Grasping the concept proves unachievable,
Giving way to its force is unavoidable,
and naturally, all doves flee their cages.





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