Candle light–
Flickering in–
the night.
Wisps of the dark–
A dreaded freight.
Whispered words–
said out of spite,
You told me, “All–
Will be alright.”
But hope is–
A dangerous blight.
One that many take in–
With much delight.
Scoffs echoing in–
the middle of the night,
Yet you muttered, “Love–
Shines brightest in starlight.”
Many agree but–
That is not quite–
Right.
Listen and look–
Around your plight.
You’ll see then that–
You cannot be a knight.
You whispered this time, “Then–
You will never understand, in hindsight.”
Hope will twist your heart,
Poisoning you slowly: a parasite.
Just wait for the crows–
Who will be your warning, outright.
Perhaps your foresight–
Had been right.
For your hope drowned me,
Gifting me insight.
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