Rain Takes Not The Sin, My Crime Is Her Pain
Love shant thy adoration
be admiration
and sorrow's usurpation?
Lest the Angel I kiss
be of mirth of her bliss
and to pray
of happiness, a soul
of warmliness
that hath blessed
as caressed
away from the hue
of the spiritual blue
and exorcise the tortured affliction
set forth in her sensual addcition
those lips and eyes possessing
the melancholic tribulation
that shalt be lt go, thy muse
how bright is thine glow!!!!
The sun dims to her so!
Engross the halls where memories go
and gossamered ghosts flow
and her haunting voice shatters the scattered
remnants in the nights our souls traveled slow
and never more I have casted it a shore
and in blunder where her wonder I am but a disease
and a plague as she the balm for the malady of
the soul, transformed that I let go and never be rid the
melancholic sorrow, forgive as I have sinned
in darkness never grinned as the rain falls
and rinses the sin that will never go even as I love her so.
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