There is a lingering sense of fear,
A certain broken-heartedness
That I would like to disown.
In the fell clutch of hope
I wish to wash off all my sins
And arise once more
To never disparage again.
I hope to heal my heart
And soar intrepid into the sky,
Free at last, a bird,
Winged by the sun up high.
If there were fifty three words to choose
What would you say to me today?
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