As we watch the world around us crumble, nations topple and once more rise from the rubble, as cruelty and kindness wage their wars amongst the people, as the mortals and their languages steadily die, we remain. You say it is a mercy; I tell you it's a curse. A longer life does not bring more joy than a shorter one. It is merely the occasional by-product of living, just as suffering is. And as the years drag on, I look ahead to see a gaping void ahead of us, waiting to swallow us whole.
You have this hope in your chest, like a beacon or a bird with bright feathers, and it scares me. I have seen the hopes of humanity and how it crushes them in the end. But it is the only thing we have left. And yours burns so brightly I have to look away, for the darkness in my hollow rib cage is too deep for such a light. And yet, whatever hope, whatever light I have, I give it all to you, to fuel your own. Perhaps hope is the thing with feathers, and it's caged inside your chest; so for as long as we're together, I'll never let it go to rest.
And maybe I'll never tell you that your hope is my own, that as long as you are hoping, my heart will follow yours. Maybe I'll never admit that your optimism is my lifeline, that the endless road ahead of us looks less bleak with your light shining upon it.
Eternity is the fulfillment of a fickle promise made long ago when the future could not be certain, when we were young and naive and thought always meant most of the time and forever was only a lifetime. Eternity in itself is a cruel existence, but with you I count it a blessing.
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Poems (collection 1.0)
Poetryplease don't read this (i laugh here, but i'm not joking). this is a relic. consider this the museum of my progression in writing. you can find the better (marginally) stuff from this one in "Poems (collection 2.0)". Thoughtful, often sad, and angr...
