Short Story: Lost
Once lost, can it still be found?
I feel I've lost something,
Yet I cannot perceive what.
It's formless. It's faceless.
I'm groping in the dark.
I rack my brain trying to trace its existence.
It's lost to oblivion.
Emptiness, an evidence of its former presence.
Something was there. Now, it's not.
At the last, light flickers. Understanding comes.
What's lost is not something but someone.
What's someone is me.
A new query arises.
Once lost, can I still be found?
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