The Call

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Vivid blood seeping, keeping one from weeping.

Pumping through lines uneven in roads of uncertainty.

Fallen graces met by pale faces.

Caught in a universe of tomorrows.

Yesterday was said to come but was forgotten.

The present fleeting and though broken tears bear heart, it was a call for love.

Attentions met like a ghost, shaken and disturbed.

Interest lost as one could see hands crossed, eyes apart.

A dying breed spoken by the romantic poets.

Laying on the ceiling hoping to keep falling in love.

Thoughts keeping a moving mind with a body numb afloat.

Where is the heart that was once given?

Simple words spread to single letters as a response.

The coupled emotions blocked.

Searching with reason what caused such a change.

Names of stories written.

Distance and time cast as voyages stretched.

The blood drawn with a heavy heart.

Now we reside sinking, trying to hold on to memories.

Can we still hear its voice, the call, is it lost…love…

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