My life drifts on, a distant tide,
A journey unfolding where I do not reside.
It revels in love, in culture, in joy--
Perhaps even sadness, a depth to destroy. But here I stand, a shell of breath,
Living, yet untouched by life or death.
I am a body, a pulse, a form,
Yet hollow inside, untouched by the storm. They say it will pass, this weight, this ache,
That brighter days follow what shadows take.
I've whispered the words since I was three,
A fragile mantra: It will set me free. When will I find the heart I've misplaced?
The soul I have sought, the self I've chased?
For now, I'm a void, a silent expanse,
Neither life nor death, just a fleeting chance.
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