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￭ Echoes of the Past, Voices of the Present: A Comparative Study of 14th and 20th Century Poetry
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2010-09-14 | |
I miss the moon...
But I light up my cigarette
And feel like holding it between my fingers...
Then I see a rain of ashes
Must be the dead stars
That surrounded my love...
I pray for fog, to lose myself
To guide me to unknown
To paint me in the museum of oblivion..
I crave for wine,
To drink it with thirst
And to receive the gift of sleep
As a faint, as numbness...
I miss you....
But curse myself when my eyes are shut
And you don't come to meet me..
Dark and silence fall in love with me...
I hate the mirror
As it shows me past, must be broken...
Or I just enjoy to blame it....
For the thoughts that allure me
And swing with me,
Back in time..
Whatever happened to the music?
No violin to caress my lashes,
No drums to bite my lips on,
No guitar to scream at me with passion...
No concert to accompany my life...
I am sorry...but everything seems to have been cancelled..
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