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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