Poem – “Harmful Hope” – Romanticism – 3/17/2021

Do not
To the one who barely breathes
Speak of deathly hope,
That a future is as malleable as silver,
That the unpredictable
Can be so formed as the present
Where the moon colors
This world in its weeping.

Do not
Twist the fog towards the image
Of barren truth
For the one with dutiful desires
For finality,
With great dreams
Only ever lived
In the world of the dead.

Do not
Bend immortality onto its opposite,
For when hope brings
Only more pain,
Hands can depart
From the other
Without the weight of the keeping
In moments not spent in peace.

Dust should,
As flesh becomes,
Settle beneath the whisked eyelids
With sight upon eternal Heaven.
While tears of grief
Raise that great sculpture of remembrance,
Fate grapples
With hooks already bent.