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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