mY HoPE, A huMAn ILLnEsS

mY HoPE, A huMAn ILLnEsS

The sun loves itself too much
Mother Earth is often cold
The wind moves giant mountains
Even if the process slow
The waves reflect vibrations
That shake our molten core
And I am bound by gravity
To the things that I adore.  
  
I have not shed a tear today
For all that I will miss
My hope, a human illness
Not meant for homelessness.

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