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The keys below her fingers softly play
A cherished melody of days long past
When in clear azure windows sun did stay
But never does the warmest weather last
The notes fall fast and flat, as does the rain
When driven by the sky’s relentless scorn
Though as the rising clouds do slowly drain
A brighter sun than last may yet be born.
With all of this in mind, I must digress
To love that she has lost, she does attest
So come you now to brave sweet winter’s breath
A spoken word, sincere, befuddles death.
- by Kitsophina |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 04/22/2011 |
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