DL (28.2.91 / Israel, Tel Aviv)


If the thought ever pops,
Like the weight of life it drops,
The wise never warned,
Oh how we groaned,
That love has no gain.

It only hurts deep inside,
Where thy secrets bide,
To wait for a time,
Whence the heart gives its chime,
Of love lost, love gained.

At the darkest hour of the night,
I think of you, wake in fright,
To hear the stillness still abroad,
And deep inside I know for truth, love is a Fraud.

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