A Thing called Hope

Those times of chaos, when, your mind’s berated.

That wilderness grows, overpowering,

You venture about, lost, misdirected,

Deeper in the woods;

Deeper! Steeper!

But beware, the deeper you go,

more the light fades

and the gloom transcends,

from that foreboding moderate,

to the despondent melancholy.

The fire foes out,

the ashes remain, smouldering.

But fear not, O’ brave heart,

the ashes will smolder,

Forget, and on.

Cease them, you know them.

These are the thoughts,

that floats you on;

on those waters deep, where

you get smothered.

Or in those woods where,

the silence is stifling

and this predator looms about

in the shadows, and,

you hear the beating,

the grafting rhythm of your heart.

But listen, O’ valiant soul,

there may be no light,

to guide you back to

your isle of joy, of happiness,

and away from these woods of loathing

from these waters of depression, of sadness.

But there always is,

that path you traversed,

and there will always be

A thing called Hope.