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May 2016
I wander through the resting place of love, the abode of disappointed hopes.
Grass of oblivion can't be found on this ground, there is no pain relieving herbs.
So many restless hearts are buried here, lying abandoned, cheated, burnt.
Not once nostalgia, for the feast of memory, will ask me to this place return.
Written by
PrinceAlexander
330
 
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