What is love if not gilding of the living flower?
What is hate if not this flower left to sour?
With each passing and coming day,
These precious petals are blown away.

Published by Solilska ☦

An English writer who enjoys writing articles on politics and current events, book reviews of what I am currently reading, essays on philosophy, poems about anything which takes my fancy, and short stories in order to express my ideas and improve my writing.

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