Heartbeat

What then is hope, my truest friends;
a prayer prayed, or means to ends?
Or too desire in light guise –
A crack malicious in her lens?
For that, I grew too old, too wise.

And left is nothing but regret,
or shame and lust when wishes met.
When all, that will, has come to pass,
keep we neglecting to forget;
 for nothing fills this half-drunk glass.

A dream I dreamt, but half awake
and half recalled my faith at stake.
Longed for depth and found me thin –
there is no hope for hoping’s sake.
 I still beat out, but no more in.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s