the possibility that there is something good,
even minute,
in the obscure distant horizon
and that possibility keeps many glued
to mundane and silly hopes,
hopes, that halfway through the horizon,
come to a crushing halt, or
end in some terrible form of defeat
what are we, mere mortals,
without the crushing hopes
hopes that everything can crumble any minute
it keeps us somehow alive,
keeps our dreams in checks
and guards our smiles from the coat of darkness
when the crushing defeat knocks on the door,
we take off our masks,
and give the most diabolic smile ever
because we knew the day would come
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