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by little birdy Feb 1, 2006 category : Love, romance / lost love
A life in which there's no intrigue No custom of one's hurt The mourning of one's life alone Fatigue, when all would desert All that's left within her palms The truth inside, alone No memory of how life went And how it soon was gone How love came through and made it's way The passion made her brave The every-day enchanting world, The cross upon her grave The warmth within her heart has died The feelings were all scattered What happened every single day No longer seemed, had mattered His care for her was rarely deep His fragile feelings inside, Though now that fate has met her soul There's no thoughts for him left inside The lifeless figure upon the floor, His corpse no longer responding The traces of him killing himself The being and loss corresponding