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Owed One

The heart endures beyond the threshold of pain,
aching for what transcends the horizons of existence.

It keeps smothering, further, further
until murkiness begins to feel like home. 

And if one's fate has to lodge where twilight rests,
perhaps even darkness becomes familiar.  

And should the light forget the way it came,
the heart would not remember it was owed one.

~Zara M.
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