Forsaken
My spirit,
Incinerated.
Its ashes
Descend back into
That dark crater:
That inky opaque abyss,
Where the slightest din
Is swallowed,
Where that one fragment of light is asphyxiated,
Held down,
Stripped and raped from its alluring, golden iridescence.
It drowned in its own tears
And then scattered across its own grave.
They turn their backs
With apathy entrenched into their depths:
The reason for my oblivion
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