Their diagnosis
is not a death sentence.
I do not see
the silky fabrics of death
draped around your head,
nor their pale blues and blacks.
I can still see
light beaming from you.
It rejects defeat
and concealment.
But you can't see
your face in the mirror:
your eyes are too dark.
Everything frightens you.
You will come to see,
one day down the beaten road,
how petty the sands of anxiety are
compared to your torrential power.
Their diagnosis
is not your death sentence.
-Zero
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