The light is there,
No She is not,
The darkness bears,
My sight cold grown,
Soon at the end,
These hands warmth sought,
Chapped as cold brew
And looks eastward,
There She was lit,
Soon fades but slow.
Heat that attracts,
Sat soon but gazed
Through me the words:
Ones never told.

Category:
Mysterious, Nature, Poetry, Romance, Works
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