Hope

Wanting to speak, but having nothing to say. Wanting to stand for something, but finding nothing to fight for. Was anything accomplished when I lay my head down for the day? Or did it open and close like a stain glass door. Is life about dreams and the journey of trapping them? Or is life a labyrinth filled with paths of false hope? We hold on to our dreams and aspirations like a thief to a gem, But it seems to slip out of our grasps like a wet bar of soap. We search tirelessly for a meaning of our lives, coming closer ever moment, at least we assume. Is there really a meaning to life as complex as we believe it to be? Like a flower shooting up from a seed till it grows tall and blooms. Or is it too simple for anyone to really see? But my energy is depleted more than I can bear. I fight for meaning, a conviction, a reason. So I shout out my questions and thoughts through the air. But all I hear in my lonesome lair is my own echo, my voice commits treason. Waiting for the answer to come and cleansing me and heal my wounds. I will keep reaching, searching for my salvation from this pit of despair. I will walk through this water-less desert filled with the steepest of dunes. For I know at the end of this journey of life and constant search for meaning, all will be shown and all made fair.