A Sense Of Emptiness
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You feel empty inside;
robbed of its passion, your spirit has died.
It was a deftly theft,
no trace of trust was left;
you're now feeling bereft,
and can't shake that feeling; God knows you've tried.
A shadow in the dark;
your soul has lost its spontaneous spark.
"Poor invisible me,"
no one can hear your plea;
a teardrop in the sea,
your fate is looking increasingly stark.
Your inner voice goes mute;
when the pain of loneliness grows acute,
and faith's put on trial.
You've not smiled in a while,
and it has cramped your style;
for, once, love leaves; hope's a poor substitute.
The victim of a lie,
your heart is a place where dreams go to die.
For they cannot exist
where fantasies desist;
and nagging doubts resist
attempts to trust in love, or even try.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2017
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