Lost loveA Poem by annTo
me, my lover, you will always be pure, The beauty of time suits you. O how the cold wind was hard to
endure, Alas it eases with the start of
the morning dew. At first sight it was an eternal
flame, But now the weight of your love
was at a cost; Nor shall I ask who speaks of thy
name. Why do all such loves become lost? Like most regrets, they too shall
fade. If it was easy then I would relinquish
my pain, But no sooner than the sharpness
of a blade; No; these tempting thoughts I shall
refrain. So as long as I breathe this
numbing air, So long lives your love for which
is rare. © 2018 annAuthor's Note
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