Arlo sakiora

Russia, Rustov 2007 October 31st
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A final comfort that is small
Is everytime you call
I smile and say to myself
That hope you love yourself

But the hopes of love come falling down
Come crashing and give me a frown
I weep and cry
Meanwhile you decide to say goodbye

Seems what feels to be destined
Is fairly often questioned
A mixture of blood and tears
Comes from the heart that often fears

A hesitant question
And a strong suggestion
What if i said that was a blessing
Would you be questioning

Love that nearly ever ends well
The love that says farewell
You say goodbye
And i walk and sigh

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