Disappointment winds and the crushing sense of powerlessness faith. It is faith in hope.
I know what it means to live without.
I lived as a dead woman.
I refused to live while death itself shunned my tribute of flesh, blood, soul.
I tried for days and days the terror of me.
I know what what they call "mal de vivre."
Today the thought makes me relive those terrible moments,
the absence of myself, a hook in the heart, mind buried.
I sought refuge inside a coffin, a coffin that fate denied me.
And I am here today to remember, teetering on the edge of hope, awareness
with a serenity never conquered, every day catching up on my
praying God not to forget ...
I know what it means to live without.
I lived as a dead woman.
I refused to live while death itself shunned my tribute of flesh, blood, soul.
I tried for days and days the terror of me.
I know what what they call "mal de vivre."
Today the thought makes me relive those terrible moments,
the absence of myself, a hook in the heart, mind buried.
I sought refuge inside a coffin, a coffin that fate denied me.
And I am here today to remember, teetering on the edge of hope, awareness
with a serenity never conquered, every day catching up on my
praying God not to forget ...
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