I haven't locked the door,
Nor lit the candles,
You don't know, don't care,
That tired I haven't the strength
To decide to go to bed.
Seeing the fields fade in
The sunset murk of pine-needles,
And to know all is lost,
That life is a cursed hell:
I've got drunk
On your voice in the doorway.
I was sure you'd come back.
White Night
Anna Akhmatova
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Poem topics: life, lost, strength, sunset, doorway, voice, door, decide, tired, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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