‘Affliction’

Aren’t we a ballad of melancholy?
Aren’t we a love, quietly distraught?

We are to fill ourselves with loneliness 

While sipping each other’s tears

We are to conjure grey rainbows 

While clouds burst into barren rains

But it’s not the real woe

It’s not which cuts open the heart

The affliction is to be remain thirsty 

After drinking from the streams of heaven.

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