Sightless Soul

There are cemeteries
that are lonely,
Graves full of bones 
that do not make a sound,
The heart moving 
through a tunnel,
In it darkness, 
darkness, darkness,
Like a shipwreck 
we die going into ourselves,
As though we were 
drowning inside our hearts,
As though we lived falling
out of the skin into the soul.
Coming out from bells 
somewhere, from 
graves somewhere,
Growing in the damp 
air like tears of rain.
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