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cosmicrealm Aug 2020
My lovely dear,
All throughout the years
we’ve been in joy and pain.
The need of sun and speck of rain,
to cultivate the soil for rose be born,
with petal of bliss and pain of thorn.
To love someone comes with joy and pain. They are part and parcel.
Hue
Her thoughts are of you
You smile like yellow
You laugh like orange

Her dreams are for you
You blink blue
Your touch is lilac

Her tears are because of you
You talk in grey
Your reason is black

Her tomorrow isn't with you
Your voice is nothing
Nothing can be seen

— The End —