He whom I have conquered could Own the world and not feel good: Gloom surrounds him without end, Sun shall not rise or descend; Though his senses all abide, Darkness now dwell inside, And though he owned every treasure, None should give him pleasure; Luck and ill luck turn to anguish, In his plenty he must languish; Be it rapture or dismay, He will wait another day, Worry lest the future vanish, And so he can never finish.
Posted on: Sun, 26 Jan 2014 02:24:56 +0000
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