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Hope
A northern light,
A starlit night,
A silver flower,
A determined fighter.
As the plant grows in my soul,
It shouldn’t be there, yet it holds.
A new surge of strength grows inside, I feel faint.
Before I know it, it begins,
casting all fears aside.
It can hurt me, disappoint me,
or even manipulate me.
But it grows,
It is determined to have its way.
So my body, in turn just obey.
Hope takes over, a deadly sin,
For when it starts it never ends.
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Form of Poetry
I do not know?
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