Love is like an unread book.
With each unfurled page,
it blossoms. It is an odyssey
into the unknown, sailing on a
cornucopia of emotions – spent
and unspent.
Foxed pages crumble
under the scythe of Time,
but love, like wine, ferments
in the cellar of our lives.
With each unfurled page,
it blossoms. It is an odyssey
into the unknown, sailing on a
cornucopia of emotions – spent
and unspent.
Foxed pages crumble
under the scythe of Time,
but love, like wine, ferments
in the cellar of our lives.
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