Somewhere
in the night of my mind
there is a hope
that kindness will restore
that place
deep
dead
inside of me.
Those in whom
I have placed my trust
have taken, shaken
and abused
my willingness
to believe.
If only there were
left, only an empty shell
and not this wreathing, writhing
blackness.
Charred faith
charred hope
charred trust
dust to dust.
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