And maybe some creation do,
That keeps you from the brink.
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Poets know,
Without effort,Sincerely,Into Life they go,And understand,That guidance in poetic land,Is just as necessary,As helping,Or taking someone’s hand.
Poets can also give the news
What really happens in the heart,Is what they usually say.
I remember
When we met,There were no flowers, yetBut there was Brahms,And the musical silhouette,‘Aimez-vous Brahms? ‘Do you love, Brahms?A film I shall never forget,Its music brought us together,Melodious love would last forever,However, life separatesSo many lovesAnd then we realize,How short the pleasure,How long the painBut Brahms music,Like our love,Remains the same,Beautifully sad,Full of nostalgia,Still, calling your…
Nothing lasts under the Sun.
Will be no more, one day,Everything is transitoryNot even Love can save the dayNot even Love can save,Anyone or anything,From going, Forever, away.
I wish I could describe,
In the Winter of my soul,Your my Summer, Spring and Fall,When I see you, I walk tall,Towards the River of my dreams,Where the flow of love, it seems,Hears my melancholy call.Yet you know me, not at all,And forever it shall be,That the Love I have for you,You will Never have for me…
Ah,
So pure, so blue, so high,You and IParadise,In a sigh.