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Love Dies
by
Solomon Machardson
From the
bottomless chasm,
We come naked to this world;
To the bottomless chasm
We return naked from this world.
While on the shore of this earth,
We strive to cover up
Our natural nakedness
With the illusion we call love.
After deceiving ourselves
That love is real and ecstatic
We discover that it is a mirage:
Real only at a distance!
Love is indeed of the world:
Whatever is of the world dies
And whenever it dies
It should be moaned and buried
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