by Daniella Annalisa Kasyanova
(London, England)
There is nothing more frightening, than
the purest silence of your love
there can be, no
fathom of it possible in my Heart, yet
in a distance that is known to me,
Your Violin,softly plays me such a dedication
I find my outrage in such torture,
yet, I still find it pleasing to me
The notes made for me, In such a pure Darkness,
where I weep, silent, deadly...
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