"Should I go?"
"It's best you do."
A short conversation
Words too few.
Yet mirror cracks from side to side
Shards of unrealized dreams
Strewn a around, scattered on ground
Pain and regret flow down in streams
Leaving desolate eyes
But broken heart clings on
As prayers spew
May all be well.
Perhaps one day Comes solace
Per chance a re-run
Not the same as before
Never the same
Just enough to hold on
Desperate attempt
To rekindle dead fires
Till ashes grow cold
Flames doused in hearts once bold.
Burnt out souls indifferent
Neither sad nor glad
Submissive to blows.
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