MEMOIRS FROM A GRAVEYARD

I came here when my best friend died
I was looking for an answer… I guess
But the world, the world is not a place of answers
The world is a question by itself
Maybe life is the real question
And death the real answer…

I remember so little of that day
My city is one of the most crowded places on earth
But that afternoon, on that particular day it seems so empty
May this emptiness takes my conscience because I don’t want to be full by the pain of grieving anymore.

This is a curious place, there is a pyramid, but it lies underground, there are some animals, but they can never be found…
I was standing on ancient history
But my numbness was endless…

I have never felt that way after that day, somehow I was changed
Big loses always change us
They are some kind of rare darkness, the kind that once it reaches the soul it will remain there forever…

I came here when my best friend died
I can’t remember how I get there or how I went home
I can’t remember much these days
But I do know that death is kind of poetic, the kind of poetic that somehow will appreciate the irony of our existence…

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