The Ornament of Ugliness

The bricks now lay in a pungent hush,
yet the house bleeds plumes of a tenor hum
The beautiful youth they flutter
with arched wrists marching on
Mornings coiled pulse still sorbent in their hearts
never questioning that beauty is not eternal
and in-existence is kissable
for now the midnight birds generously send the curtains
but the ornament of ugliness now lingers with dearness
in a place where guardian angels brawl like nighthawks
and the moonlight songsmiths no longer serenade cliches
instead bolt-action lovebirds blood-stain keepsakes
peace does not arrive at it's divorce from truth
but may we for a moment
love the flutter of beautiful youth

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Though youths flutter is lovely to get lost in children in other worlds don't have the chance to enjoy their youth. enjoy the moment, but do not divorce yourself from truth.