Some say they see love dying,
The colors of passion in battle like a sunset
Wounded, wailing and lights flickering,
Flames blown out by the mouth of darkness
As the curtains of night rise with the tide
But I ?
I say that love is a sunrise,
Colors like tears falling from eyes,
Warmth like the press of your lips on flesh
And upon loves birth, when the sunrise fades,
It has the day to enjoy until the sun sinks beneath the waters,
And its ending fades in vivid hue,
While hope hangs onto the coming morning dew. .
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