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Mar 2014
In your troubled eyes

ominous black clouds formed above

As we waited for the sky to open up.

In your broken heart

Pain buried deep beneath the surface

A volcano waited to erupt

Your mind clouded by turmoil

A faint whisper of my intuition

failed to scream your truth.

In your soul, a grand canyon left a void

As you continued to detach

and your conscience faded

In your hands, a bottle

Filled with emptiness and relief,

A final solution and a way to find peace

In your house, a body left to die alone

Last breaths of a life

Escapable only through tragedy

Leaving only those who missed the signs.
Morgan Bechtold
Written by
Morgan Bechtold
327
 
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