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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A deeper form of hope.

Submitted: September 29, 2006

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Submitted: September 29, 2006



In all truth we are anything we believe
If you see and take away what deceives
We are life, angels in disguise
We are death, air that’s painted in lies

If you feel, right and wrong will be shown
If you breathe, limits will reach the unknown
We are hope, never deny that we’re here
We are loss only when we give into our fear

There is light, a source that can never die
But in dark it fades and falls from our sky
In this realm dark is taking our eyes
In this place the light is only denied

Genocide, paper made with our blood
Selling lies, people fearing and wearing hoods
In this time the dark is taking our skies
But it's no crime if we ignore every cry

I decide life deserves some reprieve
Here I stand, with my hope I learn to retrieve
Something true, something I only believe
If we’re through, at least I will never grieve
It is light that will find its peace

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