Hopeless
by Christopher Shields
Darkness, dread and despair await
After empty promises have lost their weight
The fraudulent have nothing more left to imitate
All of my hopes and dreams converted into a prisoner's fate.
Life shattered and spirit broken
With enough rage to defy gravity and motion
Can no longer hear or listen to any words spoken
Went to knock, but the devil's door was already open.
Expel me from the photographs and sentimental things,
The cock will still crow and the church bells will still
ring, The grass will still grow, and the birds will still sing,
Don't wait for me, I will not be returning in the Spring
Will the suffering ever expire?
How many men will it take to put out the next fire?
The warnings for apocalypse are abundant and dire
Will God save us or will Satan prove him to be a liar?
After empty promises have lost their weight
The fraudulent have nothing more left to imitate
All of my hopes and dreams converted into a prisoner's fate.
Life shattered and spirit broken
With enough rage to defy gravity and motion
Can no longer hear or listen to any words spoken
Went to knock, but the devil's door was already open.
Expel me from the photographs and sentimental things,
The cock will still crow and the church bells will still
ring, The grass will still grow, and the birds will still sing,
Don't wait for me, I will not be returning in the Spring
Will the suffering ever expire?
How many men will it take to put out the next fire?
The warnings for apocalypse are abundant and dire
Will God save us or will Satan prove him to be a liar?
Christopher Shields is from the upstate New York area. He enjoys history, sports, museums, documentaries, traveling, and writing poetry. He looks forward to writing more, as he is fairly new to it.