Love You
You are the sun,
you're shining my way,
when all can be done,
but nothing to say.
You strike with a move,
a move of a tree,
the wind blows your hair,
and blows you to me.
The roses envy,
but still fall when you cry.
When your tears touch the leaves,
they might slowly die.
So don't ever be sad,
I'd sell all my joy.
For you to be well,
I would battle the Troy.
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