Brokenhearted Sunsets
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Death came for you on a midsummer's eve,
and there was nothing I could do but grieve.
As a dying sun sets.
The air smelled of roses starting to bud,
and trickling tears soon morphed into a flood.
As lonely as it gets.
The fabric of life began to unweave;
your death was hard to accept or believe.
Chills morphed into the sweats.
I haven't come to grips with the pain I feel,
for I want to believe this isn't real.
There are no safety nets.
Slipping into dreams you secretly haunt,
you are still the only lover I want.
My heart has no regrets.
Without you, a scarlet sunset seems gaunt,
a color nature continues to flaunt.
Brokenhearted sunsets.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018
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