It doesn't let the embers die.
It claws and tears at soul beneath,
It doesn't let the body die.
What good is hope to the beaten weary?
Why can't we all just die?
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| Hope Dies | ||||||||||
| Hope is cruel beyond belief, It doesn't let the embers die. It claws and tears at soul beneath, It doesn't let the body die. What good is hope to the beaten weary? Why can't we all just die? |
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| I wrote this poem durring a very depressing time in my life when I thought it would just be better and easier if I didn't have any hope. I actually originally meant it to be a spell, but then I found I couldn't bring myself to use it (especially when I finished writting it and realized what the end of it was! I think if I had used it, I would have changed the end to something like: "Why can't it just die?"). Even though hope can hurt a lot, especially when it never seems to be fufilled, I can't imagine living without it. | ||||||||||
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| Journal | ||||||||||