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P F Rutledge Jun 2016
Dead inside.
The eyes have gone dull.
The touch has gone cold.
The water of the sea streams down the face.
The wailing grows louder, yet no one hears.

Dead inside.
The flame has gone out.
The light has been vanquished.
The music within the soul is now silent.
The joyful dance of the smile is still.

Dead inside.
Only the shadow keeps company.
It presses down.
Have not the strength to lift it anymore.
Muscles fail from weakness.

Dead inside.

— The End —