"Reflection often wears a mask crafted in laughter, revealing the depths of thought beneath a façade."
Poem:
Vivid crimson cloaks the soul in jesting hue,
Golden threads weave laughter that feels so true.
A quill dances lightly upon parchment's embrace,
Wisdom brews under the mask of a painted face.
Flickering flames birth shadows that softly sway,
Chess pieces ponder moves in a silent ballet.
Muted light weaves tales through arched window frames,
Truths emerge where laughter and reverie claims.
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