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Wednesday, 6 April 2016

Corves.

Hope has been known to humiliate,
When silence has a lot of breath.
Silence can be ridiculing,
And hope, hateful.

Whose force is larger?
The seen and heard silence,
Or the un-sensed notion?
I fight for one.

For a long time, I forgot.
I forgot that realised hope intoxicates.
I forgot the misery of silence,
When I'm moved by hopefulness.

I gather the hopes in a corf,
Optimism is my container.
The silence I respect.
Even as I acknowledge the presence of fire.

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