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The Loss

Every loss is felt

Just as a ripple is spelt in water

Ever decreasing, calming asunder


A clock ticks in a house even emptier than before

The dark lingers in a hall still and sure

The cat rules now

Wondering why and how


Water weeps from a pungent wound

Never to be cleaned but to neglect and fester

Such a thought no beautiful sight could hinder

Leaving the loss of feeling to ripple and linger


A sudden holding of breath

Never willing to release

Hoping for hope to draw inside you

But knowing the guilt and dread that bind you


Your tears crack and flow from the weight of it all

Their world, their stories yet to hear their call

As their soul is stuck in the rhythm of that hallway

Ticking in time for the rest of your days




◄ Escalate

The Privileged walk ►


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