Which way shelter runs,
Upon commencement of a settling sun,
Daggers drip of melting snow,
Twinge in texture, organically ambition grows,
From red tinted languor to spite filled rhetorical cries,
Interloping between mosaic thoughts and layered tears,
The posturing of this arrangement blurs the lines, lines you despise,
Multi-faceted illusions begin to creep,
A blend of power amidst a violet much too raw,
Wild antics on display, the disease is active, the strains are deep,
The key to secrets that you keep,
Repress the visions that you saw, repress them, repress them all,
Which way shelter runs,
Along the subdivisions of crooked roads,
Deep amongst the cluttered dark,
Tattered motions provide the spark,
From refuge to those who follow blindly,
The moldings of the framework are alarmingly disfigured,
When comparing kings and pawns,
And thus one difference between raven and swan,
The once awakened pretty creatures weep,
For one day soon awake you will from your sleep
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