One thing makes sense
One thing I do know,
That upon the
crescent brush with reality and dreams
Exists a platitude,
so sensational, so creational,
So me.
In this place
I do know,
That reason and faith
collide
Hope and despair
remains embattled,
Dreams breathe once
more,
Longing for the sweet
air of tribulation
To fill his lungs again.
In this state,
In my regress,
I do know
What I know as truth.
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