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Sweet Vengeance....Alfred Dorn Sonnet To love, to die again on passion's blade, This heart's desire defies all common sense A twisted knife to tear the guts away When all is lost; one word will yet invade, Demanding nought but her in dark pretence In whispered words I want to hear her say. Promises nothing more than sweet goodnight, Through hours of darkness to the morning light. She plays her game, a mocking love charade Just one more time; she calls me in between The diva girl from fashion's high parade And ash blond curls of glamour's beauty queen Yet when her looks in age begin to fade I swear, I swear, nowhere will I be seen. |
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