The harvested crop of love has been finally carted away
My once green field, is now left
bleak and barren
Fed by the unforeseen showers of
rain
Weeds of desire, hatred and anger
Now stand invincibly overgrown
Lost in the glory of the harvests
of the past
Sitting benumbed; while
the field lies unattended
No tilling, no weeding, no
seeding
Yet, still hoping for the finest
crop
Oh, relentless thought farmer
How long will you sit idle in
this fallowed delusion?
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