Venus Horns

Here’s a fool playing with words. The battle carried in his sword.

With mask of gold, the kingsmen told. The battle cry began to unfold.

Uncertainty inside the plates, thy words are strong the spirit hates.

But all along the crowned knew well, the other way the heart will sway.

The Venus sleeps, in daytime peeks- thy heart that speaks to be at peak.

The hourglass can only tell, for now crowned one break through hell.

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