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No one has, and no one still.
Someday you'll fade, you'll drift away,
Into the dark, the cold, the gray.
Your feet grow numb, your breath runs thin,
A silent whisper deep within.
Your eyes will close, your soul will rest,
A final thought—one last bequest.
The ones you loved, the ones you scorned,
The bridges burned, the hearts adorned.
But tell me this—does love just cease?
Do echoes end, do souls find peace?
The dead may feel no hurt, no pain,
Yet love once given will remain.
Not all is lost, not all is done—
Somewhere, somehow, you are someone.