Wilted

Pretty once, still,

but fading


An empty gift,

one sorely missed


The void grows,

Consuming and terrifying,


Then, fiery words,

ignite and seduce


Tired eyes, glued,

to flickering screens


Glorious purpose,

fills and makes whole


A desired reprieve,

from the horror of emptiness


No truth can dislodge,

The lie at the center


The allegiance found,

so false and corrupt


Just what had happened,

to that pretty flower?

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