On What It's Like to Reach for Hope That's Lost
Stretch desp�rate hands up to a fading light �
A pinprick speck of whispered promises.
And from whose mouth? And from whose mind? Unknown.
But broken, all, words empty, null and void.
So shattered remnants of perception�s lie
Lay scattered on a damp and musty floor,
Dropped once again and stripped of what is mine.
Or so I thought. Or so I think. And so I still believe.
Then hands and feet find hairline seams and cracks
And pull more dirt and stone down on my head.
The slight, still-light of dusk unreachable
By hands and feet too big and weak to save.