Hold it as a child—could
Only the melting snow,
Love is a living hope
Hope a living hell.
Love is a dew lit web
Strung across our hearts
In love alone do we worship?
In death are we then loved?
Hold it as a child—could
Only the melting snow,
Love is a living hope
Hope a living hell.
Love is a dew lit web
Strung across our hearts
In love alone do we worship?
In death are we then loved?
Comments
shoe | December 7, 2009 - 17:20
sad and beautiful,:-)