Plucked from
the tree of
love and
trampled beneath
the feet of
her unconquered
Continuous rain
of scissors from
the eyes of hers
tearing my
delicate heart
with mercy
subtracted; and
I still beyond
refrain to love
her. Idiocy mine
is what kind of
that i embrace
whatever she
bestow me.
My silence it is
to bear her
questions; otherwise
my answers if
will i give,
will shake the
roots of the
questions of hers
for sure.

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Disclaimer: The image used herein is in the public domain and taken from the Internet. Due appreciation and credit is acknowledged for the same.

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