LIKE WHEN IT LIVED

I loved it when alive
and now so cold.
I crave it more,
to be contented
just like me;
if just a breath
it speaks i should
love it like
when it lived.
Until the grave
it buried lay,
in it’s dreams,
and all my tears
i have the key
to unlock the life
that lives in me.
It lives within
a drop of tear.
If I may have it
when it’s dead,
I crave it more
if it speaks.
I should love it
like when it lived.

:: 11-11-2014 ::

About EPRobles

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Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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