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The Dead Man

Given an impossible choice:
Choose life over love,
I chose death.
And so here I am, resting, regretting.
My love, she lives, but here I lay burried.
My love was so upbeat,
but now she kneels infront of my stone with tears in her eyes.
I gave my life so she could have hers, yet she screams in despair.
She mourns over me and wishes she ahd taken my place.
Yet somehow before I died, I managed to say, "Fear not my love, move on and love again."
With time her scars will heal.
With time I will rot.
Burried but not forgotten, I lay entombed in soil, the dirt my only friend.
Alone I rest, she now walks away.
She had come to say her farewells
and mutter her final goodbyes.
So in the ground I lay, alone and cold.
Lively and beautiful she leaves the dead man that is me.





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