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shadows of the past memories burn the white walls,
screaming faces with blacked out eyes of help calls,
the candle flickers with the winds through the exhale,
it burns down to the bottom as the flame is about to fail, closing eyes is no different than being in the dark,
being their own place to be alone as it flickers its final spark,
other senses take over as hearing is increased,
the heart beats slower with the flow of blood the least.