the
light of a whole life dies
when love is done.
There
is no place to run,
and a lonely child cries
with the dying sun.
Carrying
a burden which weighs a ton,
she
will fail to rise
when love is done.
Travel
onward one by one,
sounding
lonely sighs
with the dying sun.
Every
story that has been spun,
proves to be just lies
when love is done.
Forget that the world has just
begun,
look
up to the skies
at the dying sun,
when love is done.
(inspired and possibly plagiarized from "The Night Has a Thousand Eyes" by Frances William Bourdillon)
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