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Apr 2012
I am struck.
Struck once again by the lighting of fear;
but also by that of fate.
And while I want nothing more than to fill these pages with hate,
I know deep down that the state of my heart
will endure the now undefined shape of my future.
The pile of ash that remains is just another locked door.
A mound of fallen hopes and tears to be buried beyond the depths of this floor.
And I am sure,
that what was once the key was only just a lure.
And yet, as if by monstrous waves I am nonetheless crushed over and over again.
Unsure,
whether or not the blow of one more
I will be able to endure.
Standing.
Breathing.
Thinking.
An infinite array of caves await,
whose haunted hollows the only enclaves,
where dwells the depths from which my future resonates.
Paige Wright
Written by
Paige Wright
516
 
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