The Word

I was an abandoned word
In an ancient book  
A word
Forgotten by love, by politics, by the world 
Poets fled from me
My letters hated me
They travelled to other words without looking back
I was just a lonely word
Without a letter
Only the sound of chaotic centuries stayed with me
The sound of slaves
The sound of the dead 
The sound of the turning arrows of time
You (my beloved) came along with your ardent lips 
With your sad fingers
You came and found me
And then the world was full of me

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