THE NAMES OF THOSE WHO REST IN A BURIAL SOIL

when whispering their names
they come to me
their voices reverberate
among four white walls
in four cold songs..
here is hell
where the dreams are born
but never come true
.. i call them
trying to forget the things
that even never were!
trying forget those sad eyes
hidden in long wet hair!
..
it never happened
..
all still rest in soil
..
and all this pain is useless
as useless are their names
that dwell white walls
that dwell dark cells

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