DYING LIGHT
Are you finally going to leave me?
I've been following you since before I was born.
You are a light,
and I've trailed you everywhere,
always wondering where you were leading me,
and why. . . .
But now you are growing dim.
Before you go out,
I want to ask you who I am.
When I finally see you before me,
crouched and nearly extinguished,
you lack the breath to answer me.
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