I Wonder If You Always Tell The Truth

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Stranger's Perfection

Standing in your garden, ecstatic, statuesque;
Sculpted from the void, forged in creation's flame;
By diligent hands of age, before time's birth,
Under new dawn's sun's shining acclaim.
Frozen in perpetuity, witnessing your miracle -
Glory escaping when funereal night descends.
Blinded by light from ebony moon eyes;
Their golden glow through your sky ascends.
Waiting before me, a stranger's perfection,
Constant season of darkness destroyed.
Lifeline of contentment in you I find.
For your safety solely my efforts employed.
Displays of affection to cure the soul,
Discarding direction dictated by disguise.
Guided through mazes of premonitory shadows
By truth reflected from your Master's eyes.