All flowers would cease to bloom! Nightingales would sound as crows !
My lips would only resemble graveyards bearing nothing but dullness,
The skin on my flesh would be pale- as the blood of love would be drained from mine heart.
The sun shan't rise and -
the only showers would be the rains from mine eyes
If he were to to be sad

6:55pm Friday 15th July. 2016