They are Lines…

.

Lines that speak of stories,

simply struck out by silence.

.

Lines that rest,

untold tales of grief.

.

Lines that part,

the voice from words.

.

Lines that retrace,

the tracts of streaming tears.

.

Lines that measure,

the distance of a heart from its beat.

.

Lines that show dead,

a heart still beating.

.

Line that liberate writhing cries,

confined and muffled by boundaries.

.

Lines that divide,

choices and decisions.

.

Lines that cross,

the fate of souls.

.

Lines that lead,

a directionless endurance to escape.

.

Lines that draw and end,

to muted suffering, suppressed tears,

a stained past, hustled fears,

hopelessness, pretense,

a chronic weakness,

and a meaningless existence.

.

But  alas,

They are just Lines.

lines 1

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