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Sunday, May 25, 2008

On Question Of Love

Love; The apparition of youthful days,
That haunts weary old eyes and lonely hearts,
Echoes in symphonies trapped in the empty vodka bottle,
And summer dreams of a dying body waiting to dislodge.

I’ve lived enough to love; I’ve drunk enough to forgive.
But I am not as youthful as early morning hours,
Nor as old to celebrate my defeated love!
Moz Rauf
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