Why do I hang on?
Clinging with that dogged depravity to what I believe... What we used to believe...
Will the dying embers of what was give birth to new life? Renewing, rewarding hope? Or will they, like everything else disappear, washed away by the flow of time...
Why then should we continue to hope?
Like an autumn oak holding on to its leaves... I wait, aware of what will come to pass, but hanging on ever so desperately...
And the seconds tick on...
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Thoughts and the occasional deep shit...
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