Cogitatio

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I thought your love could move seas over mountains,
Make shallow waters become more vivid the deeper you go,
I thought your world was made out of translucent windows,
And your sympathy was the only light sparkling through them.
I thought your voice could symphonise with the broken violin that my heart holds,
And yet, the only thing you did was make the empty shelves with broken, dirty books
Feel a bit less than just enscripted papers of nothingness.
You left, so my world could keep its only spark of joy.
The freedom of feeling lonely.

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