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Jul 23
On a crisp autumn evening, in your warmth I find,
A paradise surpassing what heaven designed
In the quiet spaces between our whispers,
I find solace in the trust that lingers.
In the garden of our love, where skies are blue.
Just like Adam trusted Eve, I trust you,

The heavens may brand us as sinners, it's true,
But what's sin to the depth of me and you?
The first sins were woven in trust's embrace,
Where the forbidden fruit met love’s tender grace.

They trusted, as do I, with every chance,
Though rules may crumble, and judgments glance.
Perhaps our love defies the heavens' perfection,
Perhaps we offend Gods with our affection,
But our love's essence outshines any celestial objection.

Why seek heaven's glow in distant height,
When beside you, my love, is my purest light?
Because what has heaven got that I can't find right here with you?
Words of a withering soul
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