Blood without a Vein

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Is it deletable in the silence:
You and me?

Where dreams speak no more to the ear,
Moments shared fade, disappear:
Is there a reason to heave and hold

It hurts inside it’s pain
And to let things go:
Is there a choice as such where
People made tanks, I don’t know:
Hold the last drop falling from the endless sea.

Like, I live no more. This mind it
Floates along some ocean shore;
Like blood without a vein. And if
Brains control the pain, Einstein
Would have known very little more.



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