Enough, said the crow
pecking the empty pack
Enough, said the cyclist
on the snow blocked path
Enough, said the sun
behind the sole dark cloud
Enough, said the heart
beating too loud
Enough, said the meter
running out of time
Enough, said the poet
searching for a rhyme

When hope is distilled,
ears pricked, eyes opened wide,
skin tingling, mouth dry,
the heart is filled
with the scent of will dying


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