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Hope Abounds


By Sara WynnPublished 7 months ago Updated 7 months ago 1 min read
Hope Abounds
Photo by Sorasak on Unsplash

In this grave, I saunter

where faith has murdered me.

The taste of rich copper

from my own slaughtering

by my own gardener

lingers here, as do I.

A clueless masochist,

drear, earth-bound and tongue-tied,

awaiting my sadist

to the end that love lied

to steal one last kiss

before sealing my fate.

And what a crown to wear:

flowers laden with stone,

vines braided through my hair,

Queen of Left Here Alone.

My weary bones stripped bare,

for selfless still am I.

Perhaps I was planted,

thought hidden from heaven,

but my prayers, granted,

for my future beckons.

Slicing through soil, slanted,

like lightning, I thunder.

The earth no enemy,

and fed by light-lit rain,

because I was buried,

I rise and bloom to reign

above this treachery

and on me, the sun shines.

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About the Creator

Sara Wynn

Poetry is my language, and Earth is my playground.

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