… On the dwelling of my heart
Many have trampled!
They drank my blood
And later departed while I was in daze!
At cold nights, the heartless sun
Made animals’ howls in the stormy night.
I sat with my pen at fireside
Writing stories of my aching heart…
… My lips the wine kissed
While writing a rhyming poem.
There was a chase in the dark
Walls of my soul had nothing of delight
And of the verses, were the bloods
And then burned the paper in fire!
A flower was hanged by one!
The other took it and was gone!
… Oh, child, where did you go?
Left me nothing to look for!
Not a weed nor even a flower
Nor a kiss, just an abyss!
You spilled the wine on my heart!
Trampled on fire, burned them all!
So ravaged now is this place
Forever more, my heart…
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