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Hopelessness is a Loyal Mistress
Hopelessness is a loyal mistress.
Tender agonies whispered in ones ear,
twisted thoughts to forget by sunlight;
only the uneasy shadows cast doubt.
Warming embrace of past mistakes,
lovingly corrupting every though;
every joyous memory left defiled.
She is a tenacious, unstoppable force.
Sacred truths lifted from impenetrable walls;
raised up as if by providence, thusly burned.
Loneliness is the timber piled to the sky,
entombing childish dreams of the everlasting.
Hatred for the self becomes a ready tinder,
Lost sparks of loving hands burn forever.
Motherly care scorning innocence;
beautiful tenderness charred to a black husk.
Hopelessness is a loyal mistress,
ever guiding you into the abyss.
Hope a bonfire lit by loving hands.
Copyright ©
Nathan Wilson
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