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Hope


Hope.

On the edge of your face lies frost,

As through the night you stumble, lost.

Your frozen hands through bushes grope.

No sight,

No path,

No hope.

A figure on the water glides,

And from the darkest corner slides,

A white angel sent to you,

As out the rustling reeds flew,

A swan.




Fri vers av Majah Tufvesson
Läst 193 gånger
Publicerad 2011-04-16 23:10



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Majah Tufvesson
Majah Tufvesson