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Ceiling of doubt
I was told the sky was endless,
But mine was a feather away
A low lid of shadows.
Every step echoes in a room
That was never meant to hold me.
Still, they say, reach higher.
But my hands find only fog,
And my faith slips through it
Like water through open fingers.
In despair, or deep sleep
I open my eyes
But I’m blind
Feeling my way through a world
That swears there’s light above me.
Copyright ©
Hameed Hameed
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