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  • Lost Love

    Nay

    Nay

    I freeze for you
    stock still my muscles are iron and cold
    I melt for you
    as snow before the rising dawn
    I burn for you
    hot embers boiling currents
    and yet
    somehow yet
    you make my body whole
    only with you
    do the limbs feel their fulness flexing
    en-heartened to move against this steely cage
    and finally
    my ruin will be smote
    upon the slopes of your decry
    'nay'

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    Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.

    Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.

    LeeryRoscoe’s Poems (9)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    The Ant Farmer 0
    Nay 0
    Plan B 1
    Falling 1
    Darkened Psalm 1
    Discourse 0
    Dust Dance 0
    Madame Barreta 0
    The Line 0