When the Time is Gone

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Where do the stray moments of life go, they seemed so insignificant. And yet the days pass and each moment becomes like a nugget of gold, prompting one to wonder. Did I love enough? Was I a good human being?

And the sterling memories ring in the mind like the wine glasses of the great halls, when their edges touch by the light of golden candles steeped in their golden candle-bras upon a comforted wintry night.

Will I die alone?

Will someone be there to comfort me, when the weight of all my sins come crashing down upon the frail pounding flesh that is my withering heart?

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