Hope

A knock came on the door,

That freezy night,

When everything

Seemed to have been

Falling apart,

 

Slaughtered virtues

Were finally deceased,

Wearing a mask of negativity,

The Satan looked

All pleased. . .

 

Thoughtless mind,

Hopeless soul,

The heart fluttered a rhythm,

A lament unknown. . .

“Who’s there?” came a writhing cry,

“It’s me, Hope. Just open the door, My Child,

“I don’t need you anymore,

Anytime, in any form,

I reach for you to leave,

To a place,

You won’t be ignored”,

“I reach for the ones who need me the most,

Your soul cackled a cacophony

That called me home,

Just open the door and let me in,

My place in your soul,

Now an empty inn.”

“Will you fix everything that’s done?

Will you make my heart pop in my mouth and jump?

Can you bring back the old times?

The memories that weren’t worth a dime?”

Smiled Hope sardonically and said,

“You’ll have to let me in for the magic to work,

You’ll have to trust me and the pixie dust,

A leap of faith is all you need,

To rekindle the emotion

And hear your soul’s feed,

“I’ll let you in on an accord,

A gentleman’s agreement,

A verbal bond,

You won’t build sand citadels in me,

You’ll let reality rule and the beliefs be,

In accordance to the verity,

Mere illusions set free,

My soul to be governed

By anything but thee. . .”

“I’ll bury myself in the depths of your soul,

Locked in a Pandora Box,

Never to be removed,

It’s you who will feel the greed

Of letting the Paradox,

Liberated and freed. . .”

“With a brittle thing called trust

That’s left inside me,

O Hope! I let in thee,

To serve the sufferings of my soul,

To heal my life, to make me whole,

To turn the clock,

Back to the time,

To fill in the gaps,

To repair, redo and remise.”

 

“Thank you for letting me in,

But remember this,

When the brittle thing in you cackles and pins –

You can’t separate,

The Inseparable,

You can’t live being dead,

For Life and Hope,

Are companions,

Till the time,

Truly Ends . . .