The sun has gone into shade
And, turned a corner
She will not be returning
Not neither soon… nor later
Autumn leaves are falling, now
My dispirited, one…?
Winter blankets are descending,
And there is no more to be done.
The cyclones ear is sevenfold
But here therein there is
Just one rule of thumb,
One grace above all fallacies
Love is a sour plum,
With a pit of gold!
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