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■ Pașadine în vers alb (73)
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2003-11-20 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
Mild imperfection, enchanted by lies
Blisfully ignorant, the pain in my eyes Oh, how I desired, for Her how I mourned And burned by the fire, had I not endured Her touch, even hollow, had I been bestowed... The life in shadows, the scars of my soul Only darkness follows, thoughts black as coal Dreaming into awareness, the nightmares I sought My mind's lonley meadows, the battles I fought Stop trying to see her, for she is here not! Awaking to life from the lonliest sleep My wounds not caressed, and scars that are deep I can see in the fire, the Sun's burning light Her face, my eyes tired, for I must be blind Her lips as she smiled, the pain I held inside...
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