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Love in pure solitude.

Love is not the rose,
But the Thorn upon the stem.
Unbelievably Wrong.
Yet so True.
Forgotten and Lost,
Within existence,
The true meaning of Love
Is acceptance of Hate.
Love is not red,
But Green and Blue.
The Colours of the heart,
In pure Solitude.
Hard to see.
Soft to hear.
Falling bodies,
Of Future Fate.
Love is not Here,
Where all is banished.
Love is pain, acceptance, Solitude.
Love is green and blue.

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