dreams fade
eventually

slithering
into
pale fogginess.

years recycle years

grinding down
shellshocked lives

more
raw
fodder for the beast.

but not hope

because
hope persists

mercilessly
jabbing

at
the
core

hope twists knives

a
teasing
constant
ache

hope

the very ache
that
assures me

that

i

am

alive

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