  My love is a bird with a broken wing, Alone in a stormy night; My love is a lark that forgets to sing And dies with the morning light. My love is a rose that the wind has torn, And crushed with a breath of pain; My love is song with the sweetness gone, A tune with a lost refrain. My love is a ghost that has missed its way, A spirit from Heaven cast; My love is a joy of a bygone day, The soul of a burning past. |
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