Are we not who we are when
We are not what we are meant to be.
Sliding through personas
And tangents of reality,
Self split into warring factions,
Bent on dominance through notions
Of extremities
Converging on obscenities,
Loaded in whispers,
Misting from the corners,
Seeping through the fractures
Of a home rent asunder.
Light has fled.
A withering glow of what was
Remains,
Binding the ruins
Of a soul
To a shattered structure
Of cracked brick and mortar.
Foundations of sand
In a blighted land.
Still air shudders
With murmurs of
Solitude.
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