Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Sonnet of Hope

I pace among the masses while my legs keep me from home,
and a cloud of grey descends on a brok'n mans shoulders. 
It's not oft that I am left here standing on my own,
with haunting dreams of 'wish I could have' soldiers. 
Wish I could, wish I may, wish it would have bin;
wishing that these dreams of mine were gone. 
But that is not reality, a world I could have seen,
that is not the truth of my own bones. 
I am a brok'n man with a grey and heavy cloud
resting on my brok'n, nothing soul. 
And the grey gives truths I know a blanket of doubt,
endless dreams with ever-reaching goals. 
But in that cloud of grey, there will always be some light,
as true as stars will always light the hopelessness of night.

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