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Then it hits me…
Like a lightning bolt,
In the quiet darkness,
A sharp emptiness.

Without a warning,
Without a reason,
Out of the depths
Of I know not where.

It feels like death.
It feels like hell.
Like drowning in space,
Burning in nothingness.

To write about it
Is courting Vanity,
Rendering the darkest words
A little too feeble.

What is this emptiness
That lives within me?
Treacherous it is!
And the death of me it shall be.

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