When fear sucks in hope,
holds its breath and refuses
release, and the world seems
to shrink into itself, denying
possibility, promising pain
and gritting brittle teeth,
in the face of optimism;
then do I wait for angels
to whisper thoughts of
comfort, which can prod
open lips of despair;
allowing bright exhale.
holds its breath and refuses
release, and the world seems
to shrink into itself, denying
possibility, promising pain
and gritting brittle teeth,
in the face of optimism;
then do I wait for angels
to whisper thoughts of
comfort, which can prod
open lips of despair;
allowing bright exhale.
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