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You are not my children,
tender as you are.
You are not my lover,
though you cause my heart to yearn.
You are not my sun,
or my moon,
or my star.

I set you on this rock;
you will not make me burn.

You are simply sticks,
arranged upon the pyre.
You are clever tricks,
though you flaunt my clear desire.
You are not the match,
or the wick,
or the fire.

I set you on this rock;
To see what might transpire.

You will never be a pheasant's egg to be coddled.
You are only this: a calf led to the slaughter.
A poem addressed to my poems, in the midst of the dreaded poetry workshop, where my lovelies are torn to shreds.  An attempt to maintain distance, for the sake of learning.  It's hard.
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We know the truth of this history
If the time is upon us to sin
We can refuse to
But the charges do not

Men move toward the classic way
To love
To Light
To Dream
To Release

One thing I want to say
to Claudius:

Not a War
Not a ******
Take away any child smile
Anyone can't be happy

Who Murdered Love
Anyone can't bring peace
Who does not love the flowers
He may even ****

Valentine,
My dear Valentine:


On that day you captured
Thought so
Is not something else,
Love is the only way of Salvation

Human life like a hill track
Somewhere in ups and downs,
This prompts the love constantly Friend
And So "Hate is the only word for Claudius"

Though You put to Death,
Hundreds of thousands of years later
Yet Love glistens in the hearts of millions,
Everybody a Valentine One

And Today I say,
Say with my thousand friends

"Long Live the Love
  Long Live Valentine"

/
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
//In Memory of St.Valentine//

Valentine was a priest who served during the third century in Rome.
Claudius, The Emperor of Rome who ordered that Valentine be put to death.
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