Why is it hope is all we have left
When misery triumps and plagues upon us set?
Why is it the only thing that stays
When everything else has gone away?
Is it foolishness this keeping of hope?
A way to hang oneself with gilded rope?
Or perhaps a way to simply survive
When all else has faded, now dead inside.
Legends say it’s the last gift for men
When upon us Pandora set forth thw plagues.
I do not know, do you my friend?
And does it really matter, here at the end?
For hope springs eternal in the hearts of men
RedRavenPoems 
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