My hope is a ruin
A battlement crumbled
A broken keep that has seen too much cannon fire from the armies of despair.
My mind is a necropolis
A city filled with the dry bones of shattered dreams
And the rigid corpses of false expectations.
All that is left is the vast wilderness of my soul
Which I pray that God will seed with hope again
That something might be built here again that will prosper.
Apologies for the moment of darkness, folks. I haven’t gone all depresso or goth or something. Just some crap in life that keeps coming up and that I’m dealing with. Hit a bad patch last night, and well…poetry is cheaper than therapy.
I felt better getting it out of my system…just hope I haven’t depressed anyone else along the way.
😉