Thursday, September 18, 2008

Of Love I have Witnessed I bare my soul
I remember when she left, cold indeed
But love sweet as ever, did not turn cold
No days can break dreams, only a line seen;
By imaginary vision, indeed!
Her feet do not cross anymore, the knowking;
A cry, I cannot this time feed
I am standing, standing just crying
She keeps coming back, when I have nothing;
Faceless her, I know her not by a face
What is a name to a face, but travelling?
A taste she must foresee to keep pace
I have found what she seeks, this is nothing;
But they way she is and the way I am.

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