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I am sick of love
I am sick
I am sick of love
I went to the physician
I went to the magician
They say i need a prayer
So i should see the pastor
But i could not find solution
I am consumed with my confusion
The sea dried up
The dead raised up
Winter passed and summer came
The darkness went then light came
I was tired with all these ecclesiastics
The only solution
That will bring satisfaction
Is your love.
poem
by
Matt Ancient
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