A man once said, "It is better to have loved and lost than to have ever
loved at all."
How true his words are.
To have a void where a true love should be is pure agony.
To be surrounded by friends and loved ones yet feel as if you are
trapped in a glass box; you can see all who care but never hear the
truth in their words.
To cry, weep -not for love lost- but for lost humanity; feeling like a
robot, hollow except for a broken heart of woe over what could not be.
To be happy, truly happy would be too perfect a paradise for this lost
soul.
I fear I know not how to get my poor, broken spirit out of the desolate
state it is set.
Pray for me, gentle soul, that one day I might truly live.
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