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Loneliness, a grey cloak
that covers the soul of countless,
is neither companion, nor faithful friend,
It is a bitter shadow, a cruel swaying.
In its embrace, the cold nests,
and whispers to the wounded mind,
it is not shelter, nor warmth,
but an echo of an old goodbye.
It's not the best for a lonely
walker of an uncertain destiny,
for he still breathes and feels burning
in his chest, a flash of love.
Loneliness does not understand laughter,
nor of life-giving embraces,
it's a labyrinth with no way out,
where the soul no longer shines.
Which is why we ought to bring ourselves out of it. Snap out of it as early as possible before it drowns what heart we have left.
That's right, loneliness is dangerous even if it causes us some satisfaction.