As she looked back on days of old,
Aging etched lines into her face bold,
Her world was one of solitude and words,
Her journals filled with love's bitter hurts.
Aging etched lines into her face bold,
Her world was one of solitude and words,
Her journals filled with love's bitter hurts.
Fading faces and names abounded,
Victims of love's war campaigns sounded,
Fallen from crumbling pages of old,
Forgotten in memory's final threshold.
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