The call.

Starts on a random day,
a call that we never expect,
anytime of the day,
most of the times,
carrier of a certain darkness,
coldness that never warms up,

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The call,
It rips most apart,
crashes some to pieces never to be full again,
it sucks the air out,
squeezes all hope and joy off,
unbearable pain,
tears can’t even explain,
shuts down their light from earth,
leaves some spots they left in us,
all we can do is remember,
all they said and did,
live with the moments,
tears that pile in the hearts, could run a waterfall,
what death does to people,
no words can express the feeling,
suckles our breathe off,
yet we can’t join them,
their space remains blank, irreplaceable
a times we close our eyes try to be with them for a second,
yet its an illusion, a mirage on a cloudy dark rail,
leaves a faze that hurts more.
It cuts the inside and we act strong.
Whatever it does,
is a writing on space,
footsteps in total darkness,
a bridge we can never locate.
Death robs us,
Its never easy to heal,
they live on,
We try to move on and carry on,
all through God,
they become our guardian angel,
lights that shine on our way when its too dark to go through,
Looking on us.

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