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The Lie
In twisted words, like a rose, With a scent so sweet but a thorn, It moulds itself in the darkest care, With a purpose no light of stars. It blackens ...
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When?
When will dark come to an end, light will shine and shadows bend? When shall hate be no more, close the blinds and shut the door? When can lovers meet ...
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The Visitor
Oh life so dull of thought, A treasure is no jewel. In stars it twinkels like the day, A forest has no thorns. He told of days memory does not ...