A Tiding.
Crashing waves and lonely walks.
Fear of unsung silences.
Mangled hands entwined coldness,
writing on sacred walls of written prayers,
when none parallels the newly paralleled.
Expired petals and flaccid breaths.
Fear of articulated words.
Renounced commitments legible,
amounted deficiency calculated meticulously,
when preferable situations calls out.
Good things must come to an end.
Nothing lasts forever.
Better choices always exist.
Farewell,
you.
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