hope floats,
some say,
castles in the air
shining belief
in the unattainable
riding slipstreams
above their haloed heads
but not for me
no, for me
hope
is a bloodied warrior
grim faced
scarred
too many campaigns
in the name of chance
countless slaughters
in pursuit
of grace
hope,
this combatant
who shields
my fragile wounds
moves his terrible visage
closer to my face
and whispers
in a breath scented
by desire's death
that he is, yet,
hope
Hope does not need substance, oh yes, it's just itself.
ReplyDelete"and whispers / in a breath scented / by desire's death" - such great lines : )
Thank you Martin x
ReplyDelete