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Jul 2020
When I seek asylum from distress
And Love gently takes me 'neath its wing,
I'm numb to the pain of loneliness,
My heart becomes immune to its sting,

Fleeting are the memories of sad tears
Cried in moonlit hours of solitude
While a host of feathered balladeers
Offer their orchestral interlude

I vaguely recall the sleepless nights
That were spent soothing my anguished heart,
Forcing my spirit to soar to heights
Where angels their mercy might impart

No longer is my fate predicted
In the sad song of the mourning dove;
I'm drugged .... and hopelessly addicted
To the divine ****** that is Love!
Lorraine Colon
Written by
Lorraine Colon  Missouri
(Missouri)   
88
     Imran Islam and D Allaire
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