If one believes in fate
Lest, one believes in soul mates
And to, a hundred times more
One should believe in love
Yet, so distant as to the sounds of legends untold,
A grey mist in the evening settles what's lost
And forgiven what's unsaid.
One is careful to listen
So that ye may hear the sound of the present,
Nay, it is the sound of thine heart that one hears
O'er the hills and through the deep
And more, and more the feeling is closer
As one can wait to feel that touch again
Just a brush, skin to skin, hand to..
Emptiness; as it is a dream
Asleep in the midst of longing, one sees the way
To guide like the star bright at dusk
And know, thine heart seeks not
But, as mine own sleep flutters in the dawn
One never has the chance to say such words
And by then it is already the morrow.
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