Categories
poetry

8-11-04

Instead of sun, I miss the rain
My heart knows joy as much as pain
If my heart should not return
Should the fire cease to burn
Sing a song for me in vein

Young love always tasted sweet
On the lips of love’s deceit
Until my eyes were open wide
Lonely I would run and hide
Only when you would appear
Rising from all doubt and fear
It washes away with the tide

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