Tuesday, January 24, 2012


What happiness lied there, in that barren land
That makes me want to search for it?

Gravitating toward it like all the atoms and particles of this world
Recording every detail
Allowing my brain to betray me
And my spirit to leave me behind

Perhaps it is the hope that it is not a barren land
That there are seedlings lying there, waiting for your warmth, so that they may blossom
And unveil their concerto

It is always the hope that kills us

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