On Introspection

I see the color fading,
Replaced by plateaued hues.

Suffocated are the embers of a dying flame,
The wind’s embrace, unyielding.

In its willowing presence,
A stale emptiness can be felt,
A shallow reflection of prior times.

Here, I am blindsided by the vacancy of life,
With its monotonous routines
Creeping up on me, Exposing
My soul.

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