​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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