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The Question Remains
When vile necessities
And confidence are shaken,
A compromise is forsaken
In the best of breeds...
How did I become this?
For you, there is no answer.
It is something I have sought
Until I found peace...
Let no interference
Persuade me against my wish,
The alibi-that exists,
Need not have a name...
Neither I should
Weigh too much on mine
For if I were a word,
I might come out and die...
Life, like a spoken word,
Will sometime perishes,
Spoken word transforming
Like a wish-never preserved...
Were I to discard
All vanities for a time
To know the depth of being
From the lower side? ...
Was it important
To experience the loss
Of something which has value
Sacrificed too fast?
The question still remains! ...
poem
by
Romeo Della Valle
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