The spring of sorrow:
Blurred—my tomorrow;
This crimson wine,
Won't promise the Sublime!
...
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I too feel that this poem of your sync with my poem ' How I Wish for A Glass of Wine, ' and both poems complement each other very well. Hope the spirit of wine sings a lullaby and lulls its consumer to sleep! Loved the poem very much.
Love and pain! But, you still have a dream to attain in life. Thanks for sharing.
The bottle is drained... and all that remains... is the sweet refrain... of memories. Porto?
A touching expression on wine has been made astutely which gives pleasure and pain. Thanks for sharing.10