What we spent
Was wasted--never.
What we lost--
Was gold.
Moving forward,
Feeling nowhere,
Flaming rage--
And cold.
Cold because
I'm cultivating
Icy, frozen smiles.
Rage because a
Passion-killing
Takes a painful while...
Just long enough to melt the ice,
Make way to be renewed.
A balancing, a mellowing,
A hope--true Love is true.
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