You arrest your imitations,
cornering them, ever questioning,
yet ever objective.
Shining through
little peepholes in the murky black,
streaming straight beams that reveal beauty
beneath dust on floors.
When ephemeral sky-high castles give way,
you emerge from the cellar
still intact, vibrant,
hopeful even.
you are -
(hope, beauty, despair, life.)
Truth.
http://www.intherain.org
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