Ruins

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There is a little girl 

Living in the ruins

Peeking out of what’s remained 

Of broken windows.

The wind moves the curtains

And rain washes the windowsills 

As seasons pass 

-trains in stations.

The night drapes every corner 

into ghostly nothingness,

A sunless defeat of day by night

When thoughts hammer on 

the doors of reason

And dust falls in silence

On shapeless ruins.

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