Optimist: Hope Dies Last

I see your face wherever I go,

despite the fact that you might not know,

that wherever I am, you still follow,

and fill my days with a longing, so very far from hollow.

I long to be near you, feel you again,

to hear your voice, your complaints,

and make you laugh, no matter how faint,

tell me a place, where to be and a time, a when.

I will be there and then, waiting for you,

as if you’d never gone, never faded away,

we could be together again, just us two,

sharing each second, each hour, every day.

Even if I felt the Earth under me wake,

if everything around me began to shudder and shake,

the folds of my mind quickly unravel,

the wind were to tear me apart and dissolve me like gravel,

if I were to be sinking in the deepest of seas,

or to be lost in the midst of a plethora of trees,

if dolphins began to fly and ascend to the skies,

and the church bells would mark the end with their cries,

if the sun turned off it’s light,

and were to bring eternal night,

know that one thing will survive, through all of the ages,

and cannot be kept by any kind of cages,

that one thing that will survive, and eternally steadfast,

that one thing is hope, for hope dies last.

Optimist