what's left of loneliness,
of out-of-tune bells
and random memories
of devastating beauty
of the last clouds
before the sky ends
what's left of everyone,
of everyone's hands
and broken vows
of quiet october nights
in nuclear plants
before this life ends
what's left of haste
of speeding trains
and spelling mistakes
of you into my eyes
of my partial blindness
before this line ends.
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