Ephemeral

Your blooming laugh,
The spring unfolds,
Like a porcelain flower
In the amidst of gold

The summer felt
For you even more
When in autumn--
You begin to fall

Your crimson lips
Brought white in lies
A blooming laugh--
In winter's night

But nothing more
will ever less
To change a past;
A season's mess

S. A. Marionette
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