Saturday, November 27, 2010

The sickness of the soul

A sweet love which bloomed in Spring,
grew strong in Summer's radiance,
but weakened in Autumn's grievance,
withered and faded with winter's sting.

Thoughts that spread like cancer,
Bombards my feelings with vile ulcers.
My soul is weary, sick and beaten.
I stand asunder, sad and broken.

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