Ferver Poem by Mark Smith

Ferver



The greatest of ferver, lost in the extacy of love,
Nothing exists, all lies, and nothing close to the truth.
Flowers wither away, words seem to perish and decay.
The sands seem warmer then ever, the glass on the ground seems sharper than I remember...

Sunday, July 1, 2007
Topic(s) of this poem: flowers,lies,lost,remember
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