The lovely sadness of lost love,
a nostalgic shove,
a cooing dove,--
bitter-sweet, soft-hard love,
A soft-resigned moan,
Touching the spirit
that has this bodily loan,
The love that was
left behind as a milestone,
Now you walk alone
thinking of the days that once shone
with her presence sun like,
You are thirsty
but her memory is an oasis,
There you take shelter
from thirst, burning sands and storms,
There you cast away the weary rust
and blinding dust,
There the fatigued caravan of life
drops its saddle,
And in the shade of that loving sadness
you feel better than
the concrete behemoths of comfort,
When you fall in love with you loss,
You can’t be defeated anymore,
Nothing can redeem you with its profiting gloss.
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