Scoundrel 

The scoundrel is gone
The mist, cleared from our eyes
We were mere playthings for its fun
As it absconded with riches and promises

He told us of Golden things
Fooled us with lores of ethereal firmaments
Of castles filled with subservient and willing beings
And had us gaping in gullible wonderment

Alas! But the scoundrel has escaped
Nothing is to be done
Our succinct lives she has thus raped
We concur, the wise ones are not yet born

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