by Kevin W Byrom

Created on: July 19, 2008

"HOPE"

Bleeding hearts, crying souls besiege us, sadness
unto the howling winds, forsaking our dreams for
eternal love and happiness, forever casting doubt
upon our brow, leading us astray within ourselves,
casting shackles about our ankles and chaining us
unto the anvil we've forged with our own foreboding
thoughts and fears.

This rustic chest, spanning ages of torment and
anguish, sits in the corner of my room, dust piled
high upon it's crest, the lid forever sealed entrapping
the one flickering element which continues to breath
life into this kindred spirit, shedding candled light
upon the darkness to grant me a little relief from the
pain, and conjuring images of what can be.

Captive within my rustic chest, I keep "Hope" bottled
up inside, for it is the only feeling I have left to guide
me each day, the only thing to hold me true unto
myself, and unto that which I seek to bring me joy
and happiness, to cast light upon the darkness of
my life.

Bottled up inside this rustic chest,

"Hope", is all I have left

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