Author Information
A LOVE THAT MAKES A MAN FANATIC
The growing winter night calls me,
The chilling breeze beckons me,
But I am lost in a long-gone memory,
Of the times I spent here with Daphne.
The silhouette of the hills is majestic,
The growing crescent is ecstactic,
But there is a wound deep inside me,
Which almost made me a lunatic.
The joy of loving is so magical,
It turns the earth into a paradise,
And the joy of parting is a slow killer,
That is known only to love's fanatic.
