Hope slept while Pandora kept
lamenting that her deed
had sealed the fate of man.
Fresh evils swarmed in glee,
released from their captivity,
while in the open box Hope slept,
and in the grieving world, man wept.
Mankind surrendered
knowing all was lost,
giving up all happiness
and paying every cost.
Hope stirred and stretched
and saw it was alone,
and felt the emptiness within,
of empty dreams and futile sin.
Awake now and ravenous,
Hope fled.
Then to each hopeless soul it came
and on each hopeless soul it fed.
It left those desperate dreams with them,
those hope-filled, restless, struggling men,
who fought against the dooming tide,
who failed and failed,
yet always tried.
They passed that hope down to their kin
that they may try and hope to win,
and so on down the lines of man,
to know they'll fail,
yet say they can.
For Hope's great gift
when we're all gone,
is just how long we carried on.
YOU ARE READING
A Mind's Eye
PoetryA collection of poems grown from myth and mind. Gods, monsters, and mortal men in a variety of poetic forms. Narratives and allegories as deeply rooted in the psyches of modern humanity, as in the civilizations that planted those seeds. Songs from d...
