Hope

Tear-smeared inc,
in ruined lines of blue,
form blotches of illegible words.
As emotion bleeds down,
in salty streams upon,
a paper slowly dying,
it disintegrates ~
Its very fabric is torn asunder,
anahilated,
destroyed.
The old must die,
for the new to be reborn.
If hope had a taste,
it would be the salty taste,
of tears.

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About Fredrik Kayser

Everything is connected.
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2 Responses to Hope

  1. Fredrik Kayser says:

    Thank you.

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