I hide, in that which is me. Always cover'd, always hidden. My eyes, my deceitful eyes and the darkness that is me. I hide, protected, shaded by known shadow, living in, lying in, content, I am not. My shadow, is as flat as my falsity, and as cold as my love. Truth others, hurts as much as lies do now, my conscience, my inconvenient conscience; Or should I say others? And well as your nite comes I blend rather easily, hidden amoungst moonlit dark. and as ones sun emerges I contrast, white, and black known, I'm not, or rather I don't know? You make it entirely easy, and I make it fairly austere, for me, or if it may be the other way around I'm not sure? Do you? We all lie, where is the line drawn?Birth sign: Not entered
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