08 Oct
Awaking Empty
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I think I may, I think I might,
But all dreams sink like ships in the night.
Swell of ocean’s fearful fray,
The visionary dashed on rocks does lay.
Light of hope more hopeless fading,
Through the froth the tired frame is wading.
The carnage of love not found, the carnage of unfruitful ground,
Is nothing now, just lapping gently,
on a morning shore, Awaking empty.
Eff Strick
