Mask

Love,
Innate subterfuge
Of one who dreams a dream,
Gloriously huge;
Who plunges in its stream,
And is but lost atop a sphere ungirt.
Hate,
Dire misanthrope
That hides itself in passion,
Narrow, frothing sea,
As endless a porrection
As dreams that should live on and age unhurt.


Poetry by Eleonora

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