Noble Sins

We found each other in dream again.
Amongst crude, ambitious men
Two classical souls cause sparks.

You kept a secret from me,
But I could plainly see
You had no malice.

Perhaps you are an idol of the heart,
A thing to tear down, and tear all apart,
But that’s smashing the Pieta.

I’m tired. I’ve done the best I could do.
Insufficient next to you,
But the rise and recede bring no comparisons.

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