Lost was i in the dream of heavenly bliss,
Like a lyre waiting to be played i longed for your kiss.
I can just imagine the song that awaits being played,
The sonorous melody it would have made.
Surely, the passion would have overwhelmed,
Her cold heart was sure to have melt.
Few sing this song of passion,
But i say this as poets are now back in fashion.
Why does the blood of love flow so oft, so soon,
Those who truly love and those who don’t alike are doomed.
Those dreams stand broken,
Alongwith the countless dreams unspoken.
Burns love’s lyre,
In passion’s fire,
The encompassing wall.
Now rushes in the tears of longing,
Like a waterfall screaming,
The flames are doused.
And the heart that was aroused,
Is but ashes, no more,
And is swept away in the windy shore.
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