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Feb 2015
When you left it was hard to see through the vapour that was left by your soul,

just transient corridors paved with emptiness, echoes of your voice,

staring through windows as if they were mirrors reflecting the spirit within, foreboding, dark skies, rain as cold as my tears

these walls hide your face,  they come alive and ****** the memories away,  mocking in synergy, the fast approaching coldness of the new day

that transient moment between the comfort of night and the rising sun quickens the weeping spirit

we seek the subdivisions of love, whilst hiding in the darkness of despair,  yet when it comes and the countenance is lifted, the hand of the shadow takes away our light.
Haydn Swan
Written by
Haydn Swan  Purgatory
(Purgatory)   
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