Lipstick...

There are queer days,
When I am welcomed by ghosts,

To unfurl the surprises of fate,
Masked by vain when they boast...

Is luck a blend of colours?
Or is it a gift to gold,
Is luck just fates candor?

Or is it what you chose?

When you pick ripe apples in the garden of love.
They say your sins can't be washed,
If only in the garden of life there was visual luck,
There are no sins when the shame is lost.

Will you stand by me when I have been deceived by luck?
Or would you be like faded lipstick on my lips?

Will I survive as a loner in gray glum?
But I know you'll be there when I'll sway my seducing hips...

The lost glint with the lost lust,
Lust can revive the breed of the faded,
The lost glint with the lost luck,
Luck can revive the breed of the faded...

Picture from the net- ( changethethought.com )