Silent film

Checkpoint. A turn right in the hospital catacombs.
I have smashed the leftovers of your childish sounds;
Can’t hear you anymore,
Only a cold draft is slightly touching my feet.
A tiny branch of hope that I cling to
Is about to fall apart.
The air is dense,
It’s filling all empty spaces between your fingers;
The silent film of your lip movements
Does not make any sense.
You are still closed,
Not letting me come near.
Unraveling darkness is consuming you,
Pushing you away.
I will remain here and wait
Until you disappear from my sight
And leave my universe.

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