The Lover’s Grief



Promises of love, wrapped in blossoms attached to thorny stems.

With a timid grasp I am pricked, bleeding, the pain outweighing pleasure, while you remain silent in my grief.

For a hundred years I would devote myself to you, giving you all I am. Tears take the usual course, the heart is confused,

Hungers as an empty belly. Where do I place my devotion? For you have required it,

Promised its return and sealed it with hope. Counterfeit dreams rob the night of stars to

Wish upon, and still I hold to you.



photo credit: <a href=””>themaloryman</a&gt; via <a href=””>photopin</a&gt; <a href=””>cc</a&gt;

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