Through the searching lights that weave and darts
Comes the stranger that cares not for your heart
The pain of living life this way must take its toll on you some day
Your jaded eyes can see embarrassment or harm
The frail skin that bleeds emotionally on guard
All lowest forms of life are pounding you inside
Your hollow cold display your tires masquerade
Let the image that you present entice
Unlike the mirror that shows the strains of vice
This act of contact your decay while willing souls will more than pay
More Lydia
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