What remains is less of a thing

How long have we been shaken to bare bones?

That grace no longer falls,

But faces damp;

Shadows lurk and features burrow;

Senses stumble and dreams shrink.

With every passing day the eternal eye burns,

Covered in lust remain the wolves that wander the plains.

When the tears no longer fall,

Hearts have hardened to rocks –

Solid and graceful to be cast into the stream.

Ripple effects fade into mist.

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