Lyneth Hinds
Gone
Your life is etched and intertwined with mine,
not one without the other,
there is no separation
I set you apart.
Sustain me therefore,
while I watch over you.
Death skulks in the shadow,
he comes to the edge and pulls back again.
He overhears my wail,
my constipated cry of pain,
that laps into the abyss of pain.
I snap out my cry into the void,
No echo reply.
Pain that is no less, but becomes routine.
Page(s) 13
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