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The Conqueror

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Our love distants like
The little island blue,
Cast away from the others,
Like a strike from Zeus
Even fishes scatter once near
The doomed shore
Lovers never ventured
There before,
If we were to step on this accursed shore,
Will our passion turn into
Nothing but a thunderstorm?
I believe, nothing,
That only true love
Conquers all


Candles Blown out At
5:02 AM