Pandora's box held Despair
it held the fated end,
humanity held in a snare
of their own offends
but after the release,
in the box remained
a single little spirit
a scant, simple thing; chained
glowing a dull chalcopyrite
a gentle glow that won't cease.
the darkness is swirling, curling
drowning all who look
but this slight spirit with wings of a starling
could fly high over the hills and brooks
of all the sneaking Despair
but for now this spirit stays
stays in the shuttered box
cloistered and hidden away
till the lid pops
and Hope can come back to humanity.
Posted in response to the challenge Hope & Resilience.
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