Alone

It is there.

Seen, heard, and felt.

Emptiness of a chair,

and quiet rooms of a house.

Stillness.

No softly spoken words.

The loss of a conversation

is overwhelming.

Debilitating.

The laughter is gone.

Sadness stretches across,

as a face loses its shape.

Sorrow.

There is emptiness,

spreading its shadow over a heart,

and the hollow grows.

Isolated.

It is there.

A separation from the world,

an unequalled qualification of oneness.

To be alone.

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