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Now, as I touch you,
You lie there on,
The cold stone of
The battlefield.

I touch you
Once again,
Gently.

Warmth does not
Spread,
To the tips
Of my toes and fingers.

Instead,
And eerie coldness --
The darkest depths
Of the ocean,
Places lost from this
Godforsaken world
Forever --
Resides,
In the touch and feel of
You.

Your silvery hair
Is now grey,
The sparkle in your eyes,
Gone.

And as I intertwine my fingers,
With yours,
They are not hit by sparks.

Why is every cheering,
Is the great battle won?
Is all the fighting done?
What is there to cheer
For,

When even after staying,
On the winning side,
I have lost.
We have all
lost,

You.

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