Tormented hearts they held inside,
Full of devotion, craving and fervor alike,
A mind so full of melancholies,
They coveted sanctuary in each other,
Words they inscribe are not just epistles merged right,
They are smithereens of a wrecked core,
Wails are the ink they abuse,
There is a bantam hope that glistens in their eyes,
Hands that seek the right,
O’ such desolate words they write,
Full of unfulfilled wishes of theirs,
Which still hope to find an amorous succor,
To soothe the wrinkles of their eyes,
Waiting to embrace in a world of delight,
As they heave a sigh, the pain reignites,
Abandoned dreams, became the thorns in life,
They walk the road alone now,
They walk the road deprived of love now,
Awaiting, yearning, dreaming alike.
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