REFLECTIONS © 2011

Life only makes sense

In the brief moment it is lived,

A sigh that, when felt,

Leaves marks on the wounded soul.

Afterward, only a faint vision,

A distant echo of what was not,

Of what could have been the song

That fate, in silence, destroys.

And what remained on that road

Is an invisible trace, a muted scream,

Forever, the shadow kept

Of what time left abandoned.

Made of nothing, without form or direction,

Lost in the vastness of remembrance.

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