Behind the garden of hope there are ruins. A palpitating heart, afraid to accept the other side of hope. Barren, fathomless, dead planes. Beneath the silver cloud of hope there is shade, beneath the silver cloud of hope there is darkness! For a wounded soul there is fear, for a believing soul there is survival. For a survived heart, there are smiles, infinite colors and showers in the meadows of submission. Eternity breathes in a state of nothingness. Slow, calm, lungful breaths. You find hope as the other side of hope.





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