by Gopikrishnan Kottoor
All the foolish thingswe did my love,pardon me,all the things I didnot youwhen I handled you in my hand like dewall the things I did for youAll the thingsyou never knewall the things I wished you would knowAll the things I would not giveand never gavean other;all these things do not matter;you have changed; you are no more beautifulto me; but we owe love everything that built us into;from wood;into the ship it has made of meand put me to the seas;for that love will be a churchand you,till my dying breaththe cross of light upon its altar
From:
The Zong
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Gopikrishnan kottoor
Last updated May 02, 2015