I was sure.
I would be drowned.
Too high the waves
Too small the ship
Too far the coast
Too frightened the mind.
There was a smell of end
And was estrange the relief.
Finally stop to despair
To suffer
To fight.
But something inside
Was wriggling in agony
And couldn’t die.
It was hope.
The hope is a pain
That never resigns.
Maria Letizia Del Zompo
This post is also available in: Italiano (Italian)
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