-08.24.2023-
Le noir et le rouge are not like
Black and white
That stand in opposite,
Defined in a clear line.
Those cannot be blended,
Resenting one from another.
Even if eventually, evenly spent
And looks nothing bent altogether.
These are in the case of nuance:
Who are the least is to be the same
Yet push and pull in means of reign.
It could be a tug-off war on their names,
With different stances,
Clinging to their trends.
It could be an operation of co
Like fire - crackles inside of coal.
The idea of set in terms of math
Is also handy to break the can.
A glance at grime may disguise
The beating mind dressed in red;
To pose the two on one edge,
Should they fought against
Or facets of one end.
No conflicts worth a grant,
’Cause confrontations align
Amid multi-dimensions
Where to be mentioned as an endless jam.
This framework is so much favored,
Working as a breaker to rationalize hater.
Like sunset, burning radiance;
And floating flames
Bemingled with scattered sprink’s.
Seeming a picture of perfect in pairing,
While a distance of Milky Way lies in between.
Deceptive though,
Physical detachment weakens
No stun; dimness of cloudy loads is ever fold’d.
So, it doesn’t matter if le noir et le rouge
Are together or not wooed.
Sometimes their nature says nil
When perceived overwhelms.
So, it is a choice to find,
A determination to refine.
Await, how assured I can say
When senses of insight drives away.
Albeit, le noir et le rouge have own moods.
Endorsed rights to act in two.
Behold this property of popularity,
Gained from impersonatin’ pure pleasure
In forms of characters belongs to playwrights
Who stage themselves and cast a sage
– This is the story of le rouge
Readily red to read out loud,
To rant about, and gank the band.
Sad le noir can’t abide aside:
Unfettered expressions are always confined.
The recklessness of a rude burst
Terrifies the idol of devised urge
By a mere chance
That what blurt’d might lead to trance.
Here, or there already, comes le rouge No. 2
With switching masks,
Tearing, peeling, and striping cover.
It is fosterin’ instinctive task.
Let devilish doting do the utterance
To speak this desire and lustful admire.
Le noir would not stand by:
He chocked any outcrop
In his charm of dark art.
Thus fancied though,
No confession ever starts -
Despite the inklings hidden in gloating
Were roaring at his wHole.
Nevertheless, I boost a truth where le rouge
Is on le noir, in le noir, tingling le noir, est partie
Under the same hood.
The last meet plunged itself into me.
Then, the most soothing wood ask
With a destiny to burn in le rouge
And die in ash noire.
It wonders if any dying moment
Still earns a merit scent - cannot change.
Petrified I am; undeniable delight
Had by-now visited and now begone.
Whatsoever left is flipped enough
To suffice a basic need to act tough.
Elope not, at least to dream,
To proclaim a love after the dunk.
As every show must come to an end,
And every feast must, uncivilly, be excret’d.
Nothing like le noir without a spot:
’Cause all its carriage comprises all spots.
Or le rouge that never freezes:
’Cause all its nature removes all ennui.
Blame me a visionary as you wish -
Conceiving has taken all my yield -
In rapturous hysterics.
Just to depict:
There’s a scenario in which
That trunk could cling to any base of le noir
And bloom some blossom of le rouge.
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