<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=426916" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Concupiscence</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the angel of death walked like a mirror<br>She wasn't ready<br>She basked in her sin like a séance<br>Now time has a sickle<br>What will be your fate? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Shrouds of conscious imperfection<br>Hide like dark rats<br>No olive branch in the dove's beak<br>Your cinnamon tree shallow as graves<br>Grand pride motivates concupiscence</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Joseph+Narusiewicz">Joseph Narusiewicz</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=426916" data-title="Concupiscence de Joseph Narusiewicz" data-description="And the angel of death walked like a mirror She wasn't ready She basked in her sin like a séance Now time has a sickle What will be your fate? Shrouds of conscious imperfection Hide like dark rats No olive branch in the dove's beak Your cinnamo..."></div> </div> </div>

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