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Purging

There are moments
As I sit here in the dark.
Where that brief light of happiness
Echoes
Just beyond my fingertips.

I wait,
in hope for a dream
That can never be fulfilled.
A history that will never be written,
And a tale that won’t ever be told.

A legacy of truth,
Of pain and torment,
Of lust, delight, and love
That lingers deep within my heart.
It is empty.
It is hollow.
It is void of sensation
For a simple touch in itself will
Leave it ashen.

Would it be
That a darkness churned
From the strength, I do have,
deep within
And for a moment,
I can see a hope,
a glimpse of light that teases
just beyond the reach…

But dreams are just that
Imaginary and solitary
For there is naught else
That will taste the flesh as it purifies my bones.
There is naught else,
That bursts within me,
Voiding all,
Be stilling to dust
As daylight rises
and darkness completes me,
whole.

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