Losing hope

Last night while I slept,
hope flew away -
an abyssal breach
was all that remained.

Heart-cage flapping
like a wounded bird -
warmed-over valor
stuck in the pan.

Submerged inside
a skimpy grace.
Suffering the cure -
plunging inward.

Hope is a prison -
a bastard jailer;
locked in place,
too long stranded.

To know liberation,
risk beyond hope -
live and love
day to day.

To truly dream,
one must see
beyond the dream -
fly into the gap.

Fly away.

© 2001 Melissa Songer