Hope
The clouds may hang lead-heavy in the sky
And sun may seem a stranger to this land,
But there amid the nimbus I can spy
A fleck of blue. It reaches out its hand
And, bright with backlight, spreads its fingers wide.
The dirt-grey sky is temporary. Mark
How quickly all the clouds now stand aside
To frame a sun which banishes the dark.
The sky is just a metaphor. Beware
The clouds which seek to infiltrate your mind.
If you are not alert, that fiend, despair,
Will shroud you in its shadow from behind.
The sky will soon explode with brightest blue
And we can bask beneath it, me and you.
Despair
Prepare yourself for too much painful truth.
The clouds are here to stay. The sun is cold
And weary. Grey remains the colour. Youth
Is just a breath. Too soon you will be old.
For every war that ends, another starts.
For every healthy child, another dies.
In time all lovers suffer broken hearts.
Each laugh is drowned by half a million cries.
What use is hope? A mirage in our midst.
Beware before you drink its heady brew
And drift without the power to resist
Intoxicating promises untrue.
The glass is empty; and there is no light
Beyond this tunnel’s everlasting night.
No comments:
Post a Comment