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Gold Autumn Leaves With Withered Rose

Gold autumn leaves with withered rose crumble like promises we made. To dust returns the love I chose as rust consumes the sharpened blade. Wet grindstone hones the rusted edge. Love swings the sword I can't evade. You watch me teeter on the ledge but find no words that can dissuade. My broken thoughts can not sustain the quest for all that I do lack. Yet though vague flashbacks still remain I know this too will fade to black. I never thought that anything that felt so right could ever die. What was once love would later bring an end to thinking I should try.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things