We come
To be
What we
Ought
Not to be
Making choices
What ought
And some that
Ought
Not to be
Where hope,
In peril’s
Ebbs and peaks
In whispers
To us
Often speaks
For us
To make
An effort sincere
Just one more time
Before
Those arms
Go up in despair
And wait
For that day
That upon everyday
Has
Weighed so long
Where penchant
For the love
We have
In our memory
That always
Was supreme
And
Through fractured crevices
Of
An unfulfilled dream
One day we hope
Will
Gently stream
Into the
Desolate niches
That
Solitudes impart
To caress
The cheeks
Of a sorrowed Heart