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Sunday, ‎December ‎27, ‎2015

My love, I have stood there again in the cold
The vague night and the burdening showers of the rain
Such a aphonic side of the hours, shelters are alone and gone deaf
You left me blind as the stories of dawn vogueing with brumes sighs
Tell me who am I, who am I; Between phrase and outside
Come along and show me your touch and praise me I’m alive

If my arms should surface and sore and hold the emptiness
The bundle of tears should make flowers to your inevitable absence
Or shall I mourn with the ache of the branches that mocks my pain
Weary and worn out, I tease as it does abruptly the same

Nuisance and naive, I shook my head and tilt to its shade
The leaves shivered and pitied my abidance until it fell
I grew with hate; All the anger blazed, seared through my head
I understood, everything were for the present even days

I believe my oaths to you were certain
As it wandered the lands of deserted plains
Who knew such affections can be stolen for tomorrow
When no one bought the news for their upcoming sorrow


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