In the solitude of Time,
In the solitude of morn,
Life inserts its painful thorn,
For existence is a myth,
Knowing not, why we exist.
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Love Hurts,
Beguiled,Spellbound,But in a tragic way,Denied, deprived,A feeling wild,Hurts more each passing day,A feeling so apart,The thorns that roses,Hide so well,May all be there,To start,A lifelong voyage,Into hell,From where we don’t depart.Love hurts,And tears your life apart,When met with true disdain,The pain that fills your empty heart,Can make you go insane.Love’s pain,A hurt, with so much…
In the silent nights
I feel your shadow,Closely, byAnd a desperate windOf cold, surrenderChills my heartMaking me cry.Time has passedMaking, no betterSo the endlessQuestion,‘Why’How short ourLove and LifeTogether,Smoldering ashesThat refuseTo die!And the pain embraces,Strongly,And my space startsTo close inAs I know,I’ll love you onlyLife was not for usTo win.
You can’t argue with true Art,
To our colorless lives,Filled with so many,Unimportant things.
Poets are not human,
That have lost their wingsAnd are still,Looking for themIn what they write,In what they sing.
Words may come
But Love stays onIn caseYou didn’t know.
Rose,
Nature’s petals into rhyme,Was there ever in creation,Such pure beauty, and sensation?Rose,You must surely have to be,Butterflies’ greatest temptation.Lover’s smile,Best of creation.