I wait.

.
My hope is safe,
like a animal pretending to be dead.
Pounding inside a bag of frozen bones
while it rains,
as if God was planning to start all over again.
.
My will,
on the other hand...
I said I was going to stop,
but a lightning just crashed into my window
and I fell like a fly.
.
The bits are scattered all around.
Hail down.
The dream I'm building
is taking me down.
.
In the fog of the unspoken
I wait.
.
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