The Lover’s Grief

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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=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/the-malory-man/4111416775/”>themaloryman</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;

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