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To Rest in Peace

I feel more like a corpse pretending to live;
yet even death could not promise peace
by not having you.
Even death could not guarantee rest
to my broken heart that's pretending
to beat for you.
I am in that dark abyss again,
pretending to see.
Yet what's in there for me?
Nothing but nothing again.
What else could be grasped in the darkness?
Just but a silhouette of you.

(June 2012)

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