Bits of paper

Found they are, torn-apart disgusted and unshaped.

The beam of hope as it loses its path-way.

Leaving behind trails of suspicion in the human mind.

As broken as the soul who knows about the pieces,

The waves of words that touched him and got his heart into two.

Questioning his own conscience, why did you?

It is hard to join the grand remains,

Only the loss of the loved one prevails.

In the air it chokes them, blocking their brains,

They wander and stop playing those dirty games.

He leaves the world distressed

Giving up his own blood that never really flowed.

Hoping to wander about in his own blue and black

His own abditory.

Fixing his worn-out fragile soul.

Just left is the feel and not the wound.

His paroxysm as it forces him to enter a unique world,

Universes away where he has his own word.


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