Their faces serene, smooth and unmarked
Yet in the eyes lurk an old soul
A landscape so lush, no comparison found
Swiftly turned to ashes by the old soul
Laughter and sound the warmth reaching out
Eagerly crushed in the old soul
A room full of voices, aromas all round
Now stained in blood, there will always be the old soul

Surrounded by many, yet standing alone
You will not deny the old soul
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