I am running out.
I am tired and about to stop and doubt.
I am devastated by the slap of your soft sound.
I am boiling away to cleanse my last reaming doubts.
...
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I really liked the rhythm and composition shrouded in mysterious words. Here we have just pointers and no clear signs. For some reason the image of moth flying to candle crossed my mind. then again I cross it out! Lovely poem.
Hi savi, in matters of deep and eternal love, and in poetry, its always better to leave it half said, the stakes are high, lot to loose, but what is love without wanton wild muse? Thanks your kind appreciation.