Black Moon
Black moon... It is my heart...
Shards of night pierce my tearing eyes...
Her scent still looms like tiny flowers drifting in the summer wind...
Chopin plays softly from the corridor, as grief grabs my hand...
It gently touches the funeral wreaths and flowers ever so numbly...
My world is black without her...
I am but a vacancy in a dark suit...
Black moon... It is my heart...
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