Soul-Stars
I dreamt of little hands and little feet
But the dream dissipated before it ever came true
Now all I have left are leftovers of life
Snapped and snatched before becoming a blessing
How can I not cry when my core is crushed?
Devastated "when the soul-stars dream and die"
This "foliage of farewell" might be the final fracture
I try to stitch back my shattered, battered heart
And face tomorrow with tattered trust
Somewhere, somehow soft hope's still alive. . .
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