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The conquest notch on the heart,
a symbol of success and achievement.
But another year closer to the grave
reflects the sadness of old bereavement.
The love of life has long driven passed,
a life of love into the darkness been cast.
The symbol has slipped so far away,
the notch has healed and had its day.
So now the heart is as cold solid stone,
and I climb the stairs to bed alone.
© Pagan Paul (01/01/18)
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