489 – Sarajevo

This little title box,
For walls, a ceiling,
And a floor.

This cozy space
Where all our dreams
And hopes are kept.

This warm bubble
Of granted peace,
And safety.

Delicate and fragile
As an eggshell,
Yet blissfully unaware.

Gone in an instant.

Why not live
As if this was
Our last day?

It could be.

• • •

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