"its the hope that kills you"
so choose your death ...
rummage around in dark corners
wisely avoiding ever looking up
never allow sunrise glory to reach your eyes
until the day of entropy
and you stop moving forever
or ...
live with foolish hope
until hope itself claims you
finally bearing you
to the lands you could see
but could not find
i am staring at a sunrise
it has plenty of glory
almost a window into a tomorrow
where the lost and brokenhearted
are found and comforted
writing this poem
without much hope
but not
no hope
the hope is small,
but it is there,
just enough hope to believe
it won't be like this forever