Love's Passing

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Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than treason
To betray the will of reason
And love another so unseasoned?

To lose yourself on the trodden path
Of passion sure and true;
To fall into the endless depth
Of the fragmentary blue.

Searching blindly,
We stumble on
To be but love's
Faithful pawns.

The treasure of the heart,
From way of reason
We solely part
As we come and go in time of season.





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