Crying in every language of the soul,
The one that is deprived of love,
Your air, choking slowly, endlessly,
You die and you are never dead.

The taste is what makes walls succumb,
The trembling lip that begs to touch,
An instant, sparks, the world ignites.
Colors, power, energy and love.

No one suspects the trap, the fear.
In the end, all life is drained,
Now you know, and it’s worse,
Because you tasted it, because you cared.

Just cry, cry in every language of the soul,
Because you lost, because you lose, and every time,
You get a taste.

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