#120

Out of nowhere,

the letters just stopped;
the words just stopped;
the unlyrical,
unrhymed,
unmelodious
whispers of fantastical dreams—

all of it...
stopped.

There is no dead soul
to mourn,
nor anyone
to be bitter about.

Yet
what had been lost
lingered.

There is something to mourn.
There is something
to be sad about.

All of this
just happened

out of nowhere.

And a fake smile
tells it all.

The truth.
No lies.

Just the truth.

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