Malevolent Undertow rising

Your white satin skin a metaphor for society

Seemingly flawless, however beneath
the surface lie blemishes. It takes
ages for the imperfections to surface

A canvas once so smooth now rocky, lined
and weathered

But have you forgotten the beauty
you once bore, while burning bridges
and breaking bottles in the hall
You were immortal, but you grew
too comfortable, content and there in lies
your atrophy. Comfort accumulated
through vanity. That love for where you
were, and loss of lust for what you deserve

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