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Lest not forget the finely sharpened lore
Of eyes so clear they same the crystal sea
Of quarrels dreamed but never fought before
Of broken hearts, the cause is blamed on thee

Dream not of things that shall not be again
So calls the crow upon the evening’s brow
As for the memories which still remain
There is no need I see for penance now

Be my escape, so cries the lowly dove
As he sits idly upon the ground
I’ve lost my way to fly because of love
And now, I claim, there is none to be found

So from the doves and crows we now can learn
That love is best when it’s felt in return
©2008-2010 ~onexmorextime
:icononexmorextime:

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August 31, 2008
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