Tempestuous waves lashing,
weather-beaten shores of being,

smashing cliffs,
futile defences.

Feeling erosion,
within,

gentle,
gradual,
incessant,

donning my armour,
shielding me,

from cold,
wet waters of fate,
until now.

Armour pock-marked,
battle-fatigue claws at my throat,

a once orchestral crescendo of promise,

now jangling chords of dissonance,

beating deep inside my heart,

yet, yet,

stemming the cacophonous onslaught,

surrendering to the inevitability of change,

knowing, knowing,

that from the jagged rocks of memories,
from the frigid waters of destiny,
from the dissonance of infinite chords,

there always is,
as there always shall be,

the promise of a new symphony … … …

H O P E
              A L W A Y S

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