Forgotten Passion

The night falls as if slain by the sun,
stricken by its hot rays.
The emotion for which you pine
lasts no longer than a day, before being snuffed out,
swallowed by the emotion,
that all hope must perish someday.

Your ambers burnt out so long ago,
how could you forget?
As our passions surround us, begging to be free.

I did once know you,
as a friend would,
though I knew to keep my distance,
You still taught me to love myself,
because you are love.


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