again by being a distress ,
nought faith and hope
Shall i still pray for love?
A fault it was
So young and so igneous
So plain and so foolish
and so my fight for thee
ends in futile
for once a turmendous love
has become an imense pain
YOU ARE READING
titled parts
Poetrythe melancholic part of me that wants to be exposed - p o e m s -
