It's loneliness that makes one to crave,
It's heartbreaks that make one desire perfection,
It's our dark past that make me want to erase it,
You resemble a god,you remind me of non. ...
Why do I love?
Is it for men to choose
The hour of the hushed night when crowned with dews
From its sea grave the morning star shall wake?
Lo, while we drowsed, it rose on our heart's ache,
And all our heaven was red with the day's hues,
And glad birds chaunted from the trees above.
So was it with my heart that might not choose
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