Kicks may hurt, words may pain, there is nonetheless no agony as deep, as endless, as restless as that of thoughts, thoughts of a love alive, a love vibrant; which has from my sole willingly resigned.
A love not dead, no. For life is not as stunning as poets wish and sadness is beyond the cures that exist, and love, true love makes a lover die more than he lives
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disease of love. good one. thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
A very intensive impulsive radiance of love is seen here.Nice