The Stranger

Love they say, can enliven a soul
Can turn you empty,
And if lucky: whole.
But to this lie, I concur not
For darling, these days,
Souls can be bought.

What starts as sparks, dies in smoke
Rest assured, your misery is
The Stranger’s joke.
Be wary of someone who sings you a song,
For many-a-times, to them,
The songs don’t belong.

Lust they say, is a deadly sin,
Yet heart is seldom chosen
Over the promises of skin.
Tread carefully, in the Stranger’s lane
For darling, these days
Love is too easy to feign.

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