We Who are Alone

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What does one do when they are found alone?
When their only friend is the mirror of water
They see others, but are dry as a bone
With lives of simple mental slaughter

Does one see inside the shadow's cloak?
Images that taunt the feeble, weak mind
All is companion, but none is evoked
Leaving happiness for the self to find

How does one look upon this world of trife?
Standing at the top on the lowest ground
Seeing in secondhand the chaos of life
Feeling of that which can only be found

Not ever feeling of pain or dour
Rather an emotion in the darkest hour.





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