Dried Ink
Strokes and symbols painted
Stygian slashes danced
Scampering and sautering
Eulogizing and embarking
Stories told
Secrets kept
Love lost
And lives wept
But within that paper
Torn and old
Souls sing as the church bell tolls
You can hear their whispers if you try
Their wailing, screaming and cries
They don’t even utter a final goodbye
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