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There is freedom in isolation,
in being idle and invisible,
where one could sit in muteness,
swim widely in dusk and ask,
"Am I really here,
if no one is around to see?"
A different kind of suicide

There is pleasure in being a shadow,
in pretending you don't exist,
to avoid acting like you do

Solitude isn't a time for me
to let myself free
but rather a time to free myself
from who I am

Outside the confinement of company,
I am anyone and anything,
I am someone else, somewhere else
I am alive,
but I am no one
I am alone

a.r.
Death proposed to me last night

We met
In a field of branwen
Not a soul in sight
Just them
Silhouetted in shadows and sorrows
Within the murky black night

Death proposed to me last night

they kissed my hand
And asked if I
Would like to be
their lovely bride

Death proposed to me last night

I intertwined
their hand in mine
As I rapturously whispered
Yes
I will be your wife

Death proposed to me last night

they pulled me close
And wrapped their cloak
Of sadness and sorrows
Around us both

And while the cloak
Fought the chill from my bones
We walked
Hand and hand
Soul and soul

Over the threshold
Into the unknown
Words float in the air
They rearrange themselves into a sentence
form a picture of a train and roll away

Words shaped like balloons
They float away but will be back soon

Words hiding in a tree
Leaves fall to the ground and form sentences for me

Musical notes rearrange themselves on a scale
Fingers jumping from fret to fret
or dancing on the piano keys
These are some of the things I see

Ocean waves roll in and write on the sand
Once it just wrote, "I AM"
Seashells with words lie on the beach
In a sentence they realign
Thank you Lord for this beautiful mind

— The End —