love, the nostalgia left after the fire burns,
to smouldering embers,
tears, the words thought to say,
after the wrong ones are said,
the one who truely cares,
taboo,
in a life of which my soul is bared,
no one seems to enter,
so unprepared,
and in my haste,
I conquer all good,
as if it were all mine,
to taste.
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