So full of artless jealousy is guilt, it spills itself in fearing to be spilt. -- William Shakespeare.
You have spilt it now, yet you fear,
Then it is not guilt my dear.
It is grief you feel
For a love so real.
Yet reel it may seem.
It's destiny you deem.
Guilt is heavier,
But grief kills hope.
Can life be merrier
sans hope, I say nope.
For one you grieve,
Yet in you we believe.
Smile my friend,
It's not the end.
Laugh my friend,
It's not the end.
Love my friend,
It's never the end.
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