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Spirits

We are made of untouched energy,
used throughout our lives until death.
Your end has marked you and me,
When releasing your final breath.

Your bodies spark is spirited away,
Imprint on the earth its last shape.
With inner peace or with affray,
They linger among us without escape.

Glimpsing them in the corner of your eye,
Wondering if it is your imagination or reality.
The apparition appears to you all shy,
But once you look away and back, they flee.

Still in wonder, if it is true what you see,
You try to remember as much as possible.
But like a dream, they seem to fade in quality,
And you later treat the moment as unusable.

So, you finally accept the unacceptable,
What you have seen is no longer contradictory.
You cannot reason with the imperceptible,
And the truth will always remain a mystery.

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