It was not love
The spring went and it went too
Like the rose it wilted too soon
It was not love
For it was born from whimsical fire
The stray wind gave it wings
The waning moon gave it light
It was not love
It was like the wine
An elixir for the lips
Poison for the soul
The night went and it went too
Lost in the creases of coverlet
Diminished by the yellow window pane
It was not love.
It Was Not Love
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