
Alone was I,
In the chilling frost
Of the dry winter.
Sitting in the old couch,
Torn and scratched
Placed in my forlorn room.
Turning the pages
Of the Old diary
of those cold reminiscences.
When love subsisted.
When mirth relished.
When warmth thrived.
When smiles dwell.
When paramours existed.
Ah! Such are these memories,
Of my betraying beloved.
Shimmering in the diminutive,
Vacant and crestfallen
The world of my deserted heart
In the Dismal December.
Published in: Revolution Flame











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