The Last Hope


That idle Tuesday in wasteful January appears when I close my eyes.
Was it yesterday or years ago?
It doesn't matter, it hurts all the same.

The twin voice, in a tone I had never heard before,
sent me to my knees.
The words crushed my chest with the force
of a thousand planes.

My body was cold and burning all at once--
my throat, numb from the crash.
Vanished was my brother without my blood.

When the justification of dark was over,
only empty but hopeful certainty remained.
The end has never really come.

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