Just the way it is.
As hope of hope is again assaulted left bereft until finally defaulted to an emptiness without reprieve.
I cannot pretend to know how you feel or understand how you grieve or count the stars that led your way or the intricacies that fate weaves.
Through time and space in the blush of your face and all the dreams it conspired to decieve.
And so we go stumbling, through the dark of night with wistful thoughts to hold up the light. To shine upon the blackest skies of all the reasons without recourse to why.
Until there left standing upon the shore silently contemplating every door that has never opened in any time, not this time or any time before.
Poetry by Rik
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Written on 2020-11-27 at 04:00
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