Searching For Safety

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Every single night is a lonely night.
Painted words and silent whispers belong,
Fueling the empty, regretful fight,
Bringing about painful, sorrow-filled wrongs.

Battling a cold war of loneliness,
Silent and stealthy like the pretty moon.
Twirling around, fabricated finesse,
It was a dangerous and mad typhoon.

So, silently, I left the fight behind.
It was pointless, I was the one losing.
And I set out with the intent to find,
A presence who would not leave me bruising.

After a long time, eventually,
I found you, finally, and you found me.

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