My Enemy

in poem •  6 years ago  (edited)

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Dark my ambience is half-closed or it was only the flower of my age, for many the sun shines for other as I that ignores my value to love, since a big farming has lost any fruit of the soul.

Only I ask to my heart it to continue his course, since my fear me harvest, up to the point of which I have reached of being an overwhelmed garden, where the water covers a cloak of tomb.

Only my fear is my enemy, only I ask us to return again to the reproach puritans against the delivery of the pleasure, as a visible pen, as a new flower, which I will find my sleep in this ground that we can still love.

Only there exists the pain of the time that there devours the very carnal life and dark enemy that we do not want to see, but I accept now my life, like necessary face of the real will of which the feeling that, to sipping our blood, simple mind we are a stronger lesson of the past.

The punishment of coming whereas it identifies us with has always been, I will be a rider without course but it does not take the valor from me, of a social obligation to share the pains that the collective struggle imposes against the need to love without damage, as the flame that we take of giving a hope, only I know that many flowers dismiss without wanting it, but it captures the most sweet perfume of the natural love and more wrapped in deep solitude hoping that you should keep her alive.

Dedicated to all those so that it does not lose the faith of loving, which is our valuable gift that we can offer without price only our will .......@valquiria666.

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