caressed in creep of gloom,
surrounded by the pitch
of death's eternal face and
swallowed into emptiness,
dissolved into the void,
of hopeless, choking uselessness,
I hold my breath and wait.
The times when Soul
is deeply lost, when Stygian
odours creep, and clammy
thoughts embrace and cling,
to hope's clear crystal breast,
remember that the bleakest
night, the blackest place
still leads, to yet another dawn -
beyond the place of grief.
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