A Rip
Sorrow is like a black hole,
It can crush the fabric of reality
Into what is impossibly dense –
A Rip that sinks to
never rise
But
One that
demands constant feeding,
So it drains all happiness as well
Into the other-side universe
Where all is sadness and hope.
How many are the springs
That feed our lamentable place
With the tears and joys
Of our mirrored home in the universe?
- 1
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