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In me there was a life,
As if wood, trees of feelings...
Emotions...

It was dense, fresh, pure...
The sun heated it, shined...
Has burnt down...

I have not forgotten it, I remember.
I remember, how loved this wood,
As breathed...

Everything that was in this wood
Slowly dies, does not breathe.
All weight of grief has broken trees,

Feelings, disappear...
Listening to dying voices,
I leave together with them,
In emptiness, in darkness...
In silence...

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