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[ashtragik]

Here comes the death of a lover
who must not wait for me.
By my own terms, I am dying
broken heartedly
Mourning will be done in morning
by afternoon I forget
When night comes I will remember
the beauty and the beast of regret.

Autumn comes in slowly
Summer's breath upsets
What is a fraction but not whole?
What is not all but neglect?
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