Hope’s Silent Symphony

In the despairing grasp of fear,

I now know I should fear less,

 

Waste less my precious focus,

Fearing a fleeting fretfulness,

 

Just like the toxic-looking froth,

Foaming to spoil lakeshore soil,

 

Appearing to pollute pureness,

Its existence alludes to ugliness,

 

Only for wiser winds and reeds

To calmly compose, sway, caress

 

Legato indications of hopefulness,

Stirring

flights                         of        frothy

freshness.

 

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