Not every night
are equally dark
nor do they have dead life
leaning on their windowsills

not all sunrises
wake up bright
nor do they explode in colors
of exciting hope.

the wet floor after the rain
is diluting the tears
of deep sorrows
like huge chasms

the icy wind
gets tangled in hair
And wake up
hidden ideas.

Not all households
are welcoming warmly
bringing peace
to their dwellers.

I have survived
dead nights
lead sunrises
and ice in my mind.

But always
My undeserved love
Has been waiting for me
When I have come back home

And with him,
the anchor of sanity,
the true joy
and the sweet hope.

What do you think?

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