When we don’t see the end of it anymore,

there is a moment when we are well past fear and hope.

Just tired of everything and nothing.

Not caring about our Destiny,

but hating it nonetheless,

hating it very much.

Too many things coming our way,

Things uncalled for

Bad things like

Ruin Illnes and sickness

for of our loved ones, and for us….

Doesn’t matter anymore;

not caring, just hating.

Fixing things a little,

then a short period of peace,

even hope, and,  then,

bad news back again, again, and again,

too many times

to anymore care;

only a tireness of the soul

and hate for our fate:

The realistic desperation has come

the foul hope is for ever gone