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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #944936
Inpired by a news article of somebody who spends days at the bedside of his deceased wife.

I’m sitting at the foot-end of the bed, I’m looking at your empty face
No expression in your open eyes, should I close them for you?

Where once we laughed, now there’s nothing left but silence
We knew this would happen, yet it all seems so strange.
Was it all in vain, was it all meant to be this way?
I just can’t imagine.

The moonlight plays with your hair, makes it look alive.
Was that a breath you took? It’s all just wishful thinking.

I know nothing will bring you back, back to me.
Back to the world you used to know.

You used to speak to me, you used to say you loved me.
Now all is gone. The life, the love, the hope for something better.

You are no more, our love has died.
And so will I.
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