All But Love.
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When fastened tight into happenings
of only today, then
love feels a world away.
When nothing but dreary mundane flows
around a heavy heart, then
love will always look away.
Yet what of tomorrow's whispered songs?
Ahead and waiting, then
love will sing sorrow away.
So come dear love, into the future's bold
promise, lay with me, then
all but love will go away.
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