Farewell

Darkness fever

28 Apr, 2016 07:25 PM
the skies shall mourn,
for they're masters of disguise - 
But no poet's hand can paint
the shades of blue,
dwelling in your eyes.
The spring shall rejoice,
and the winter will scorn 
Just like the sun; for it ever plays
with my forlorn - 
honeyed kisses of it's rays.
So if the stars are meant to glisten 
and if the winds are destined to cry
then why is it so hard for me to listen
to something so simple as your goodbye.
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