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Requiem of the Unadorned"
#EchoesOfAbsence

Empty chairs are harps unstrung,
Each curve a hymn unsung.
Their shadows murmur in muted keys,
A requiem caught in wandering breeze.

Do they cradle absences or mend them whole,
Where cushions cup the phantom soul?
Splintered arms hold the echo's trace,
Of fingers once that graced their space.

The...