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it is times like these that we come upon the realization of all we stand to lose. how much blessing in disguise will be sacrificed in favor of soothing cynical airs and harsh words? are we not alive? is this mortal sphere not still held in a delicate place of balance? oceans still roar and beaches remain upon where they crash. skies streaked amber explode into stars and the stars light seeps into a shimmering crystal dawn.
hope, yet it remains.
clouded are our beliefs, but believe we do. in mystery and laughter. in idolized friendships and unrelenting bond between souls. in alcohol and cigarette salvation despite the consequences of either consumption. we believe that fate is very far off, and it is not tomorrow, but maybe next year the haunting will come around for us.
bathing in simple sun and pleasant breeze to wilt away the colder edges. while pen poised we climb upon inspirations back and monument ourselves permenance. this too we believe in.
hope is yet an explosion behind closed lids, where we live in other times. to worlds and planes of time we travel. not abandoned to fantasy, but allowed every so often to live there for a time.
until comforted, fed and satiated we are sent back into the world. as though under orders to try all the mundane ways of finding our peace yet again.
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Posted by kmalbro on 2008-01-30 23:57:00 | Rating: | Views: 79
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Your poetry always makes me think. I'm never quite sure I understand it completely but I think this is talking about holding on to hope.. in which case I agree. :)
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Posted by hairytoad2005
on 2008-02-03 04:19:33
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