doubtful willingness of hope

isolated,

conforming to differences

reluctantly content.

together,

similarities desperately yielding.

illusionary beacons of grandeur,

they project triumphant maneuvers of purpose

masking the plain messes within,

struggling to cut through the fog.

permanently changing

they become grass

shriveling into the ground,

cold from paths unwalked

trapped in a permanent present.

yet the unfailing sun glimmers

with future hope of travelers,

traveling to find loves misplaced

seeking truth in what remains.

timepieces stop

only to start again with new life.

a life welcomed by only the purest souls

yet those pure souls are blind

with blank complexities

holding their breath

knowing they can exhale at any moment,

but they don’t for fear of who will take it away

and so a lonesome far-off tomorrow waits.

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