The Quagmire Twin
The surface was boiling, resplendent
The murky ebb that would surely obscure
The harrowing glance of a malcontent
Standing on the edge of a heather moor
I was drawn in just like a pendulum
That swings now this way and swings now backwards
To each transient lease it will succumb
It dons every moment and then discards
My reflection was marred by muddy brown
The lips detached and the eyes now fallen
Wearing leaves but no hair, like a crown
It studied me back, my ebbing twin
Longing to dissolve in the quagmire
I lent close - wanting all to transpire.
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