My heart flutters in fear that death will always have the last word
I can write this only because I have faith that I will be proven wrong
My faith is based on desire, but desire I am and am I not truth’s affact?
Shouldn’t my being be testament to truth?
If my mind whispers hope, on what grounds do I suppress it as foolish whimsy?
That I obviously see nothing?
What is that but a reason to doubt my understanding?
A Little Something Extra 
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