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I will try to connect to life
for the forsaken bodies,
for the forgotten souls,
for the fortuneless lives.
Hope is the beacon to retain the connection

But when my mind and soul separate,
and my body falls apart,
I have nothing to speak of,
and I have nothing to courage me,
to move me outward, toward—
Even though I am the connection itself.

Energetically lost,
Connection blooms over my head,
like a halo would.
The faintishness situation,
like a dead battery does.