No matter how many times
I resign myself to pain,
Something always comes up
To make me hope again.

Though I had retreated
Safely within my shell,
I keep re-opening my heart
And exposing it to hell.

So very desperate is
My inner hope and desire,
It clings vainly to any chance
And is burnt by heartbreak’s fire.

Every time I do this,
I look back and ask myself why?
Why did I allow myself to hope,
And condemn myself to cry?

For the first time in a thousand nights
I went to sleep with a smile,
Was the hope ever actually there?
Or was I just in denial?

Perhaps fate was toying with me,
Restoring my hope for life,
And yet skulking in the darkness,
Ready with it’s cruel knife.

I saw the sun on the horizon,
At the tunnel’s end was a light.
But phantoms to destroy me were there,
As my hopes they did smite.

Small mercies I look for,
And indeed they are there.
And yet so petty they console me not;
Not in the least bit fair.

Every time I begin to move forwards,
It turns out to be a false start.
Forever more now I shall remember:
Careless hope costs hearts.