even the flowers must wilt, my love the vase overturned and spilled, my love everything we seek, silver and gold falls to the floor and is spoiled, my love the flesh will drop from our bones one day all that is living is killed, my love I think of our breath lost to the breeze and all the words we misused, my love should we lament then the passing time when we know our fates are sealed, my love?
The passage of time, use it well.
Nice tone ,courtly love ,Marc .
Thanks Jane. I appreciate you always take time to leave a comment.
Oh what a luscious ghazal...
Words we misused.....
Thanks 😊
Beautiful...