Hope to me,
resembles an urgency
An impatient feeling,
smashed through the ceiling,
of my sanity
Hope to them,
is part of religion,
Pointing towards healing,
elusively feeding,
their lack of freedom
Hope to me,
means impulsivity,
wrapped in thoughts,
that tied in knots,
scratch on my clarity
So while its there,
craving to be shared,
I abandon it,
yet tempted by it,
I come to declare
“I am a victim,
of early conceived convictions,
I am the target,
of continuous darkness,
I am the addiction,
behind my created fictions"
"I need hope,
in order to cope,
I need illusion,
to prevent delusions,
I admit, I am lost
and can’t be exposed,
to what I’m not"
