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Wednesday 12 October 2011

The Death of Hope

Death, the burst of a balloon
What’s left fragments of gloom
Like ash they fall from the sky
From where meanings mean nigh.

We sweep the pile
Dust that was once hope
Now turned aggressively vile
Like the stench of dead antelope.

Beyond, gone from our grasp
Unreachable, yet so close
It taunts while we gasp
For what causes these woes.

I still awake every night
Memories of those days
Unable to rid them
Due to their powerful ways.

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