Tis human nature to give in
Despair at fight that one can’t win
Exhaustion is a potent weight
That brings downfall in face of hate
There is a sense of listlessness
No hope of rising from this mess
There’s no denial scorn and spite
Have blurred the line ‘tween wrong and right
Discouragement is strange bedfellow
Can fan a flame as sure as bellow
It conjures up a sense of doom
Foreboding threat will always loom…
Yet in the darkness beats a heart
So low and deep it barely charts
But steady still it resonates
Like beacon leading on the Fates
That tiny flint that sparks afresh
Might unsnarl what seeks to enmesh
For though in blackness ere we grope
An inner light does burn… tis HOPE
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