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Unexpected Places

Beloved flowers grow in the damp dark rooms

Where lovers are met with hopeful hymns

And in the boiling teapot a black rose blooms

Pricking the fingers of all who dare to close in

In the great gardens of the burning palace

Grow death caps as large as eyes can tell

And a death shroud blows spores from the chalice

Blessing the commoners over a sunday dawn

You have not found me in gardens of lush green

Nor have I found you in blessed dark catacombs

Nor has the child of our union ever been seen

Yet we seem to have found homes in unexpected places

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