~ Poetry by me ~
Mirage
A die without pips
A coin with three sides
The wind's reflection
A mirror that hides
Names without number
But none his one true
Familiar stranger
In midnight's dark hue
His tracks in all places
Each place in his mind
A myriad faces
Both seeing and blind
Loosing and binding
Souls to his cause--
Endless road winding,
Desire that draws.
© Michaela Macha
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