Thou might love , thou might hate
Thou might blame it all on fate,
Behold the viscious circle in which ye caught
For ye blinded thyself to lessons life taught
Joy of today is morrow's sorrow,
Reasons of being from each other they borrow,
Hear me ye, who loved other's for a reason,
They shalt change like sun and season,
Reasons by dawn , by dusk are not,
Loved changed in reason is love not
Love thyself, if thou must
If so, then be rest assured,
Desolate ye shalt be---Nevermore
Saturday, March 17, 2007
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