My love, I sow the seeds for your return,
Tending to the garden of my despair.
Watering the plants with my endless tears,
My grief is their food; they flourish under my care.
The moon, red as blood, rises in the sky.
I say the words to bring you back, my heart aches
For you to fill it with life once more.
Come to me, my darling. My bitter harvest awaits.
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