Categories
Poetry

The life of hope

For me, Destiny is a myth
I go, I cry, I suffer, I give pain
Am I a bad man?
Or am I good?
Well, it all depends on you
From where you see it all
For my heart, everything is right
I may stab you, yet I’m right
I may kill you, yet I’m right
There is a dark world inside
Where tears are stored
The well of hope, they call it
It gives tears to give hope
But that well when out of tears
Makes me dark from inside
Tears me apart, to be called an angel
The well of hope they call it
Is the treasure where secrets are kept
In dark, remorseful heaven of wrongs
The wrongs that make me evil
But still there is hope left in that well
That one day, I will clear the darkness
I will come out with a gleaming piousness
And I shall redeem myself that day
I have a hope that hope is still there

By aamerbasher

Aamir Bashir is a Romance fiction writer. He has been writing for a while. Her Choice to Love is his first book.

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