A poem, half-written
What is Life, if it doesn't break your Heart;
What is Life, if it doesn't change your Perceptions;
What is Life, if one doesn't trip over false Faith;
Magical melodies here and li'l laments there,
Life is a game of missed chances
And sudden co-incidences.
Seeing you go is like a nightmare,
Thorns of love bleed me to death.
What if the Trust lies crumbled,
What if the Enchantment is broken,
You'll always be a poem half-written...
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