It is not so easy to recognize coming out of the dark
Without a sound. a silent attack that leaves its victim
Shaking and weak. Not knowing when It will return. Today
Or perhaps tomorrow without warning, never knowing.
Mostly because each time the beginning is different.
Sometimes drifting in like a fog billowing, choking.
But mostly like a hollow cylinder. Empty of contents yet
Overflowing with nothing. Surrounded by pressure.
Nothing visible to Push to the side and make an escape.
Dark and void of color yet containing all color.
A vortex of nothing.
Tugging, pulling, pushing. How long will it remain?
No one can say and
Each time it the shape is different.
Yes, it has a name, Loneliness. a difficult Beast to handle, a
Struggle to defeat. But as the ocean's tide recedes only to return
So will there be a return of the loneliness that fills
The heart with sorrow
And leaves an imprint on the soul.
Yet each time the imprint is different.
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