A Reflection on Imagined Despair
What if hope was but a forgotten song, Silenced by the cacophony of our worries. Unaware of how our story would unfold, we sought solace in the familiarity of our pain and raised our hands in solidarity, Only to be broken by defeat. And then we grasped our pitchforks and hoes, marching into battle we couldn't name. Imagine if we'd trusted the system of potbellies, grey heads and crafty tongues. And rooted our hope in the transient, in tales left incomplete. Imagine if we'd had no one to listen to our cries, petitions and prayers. what if we had no supreme being to grant us understanding, then we'd all take turns at the altar of despair to end our worthless lives.
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