Again, hope
Cold ideas slip away,
Leaving a dread of tomorrow.
Lost salvation leaves a scar shown to all.
Death is close but there’s still hope.
All must be new, fresh and clean,
Unlike it’s ever been
And I must close down a black part of me.

Tomorrow is the key;
New dawn will surely explode
All leaden regrets, wounding guilt-
And sun burns bright passion into will,
Holding it above the morass of doubt,
Leaving me without
A reason to abhor my sorry existence.
Night is a canvas for dreams
Painted without mercy, stroked
With the creative whims of divine justice.

I turn to her, imaged in sturdy stone;
Queen of the night, font of rebirth
Or else with earth
Destined to entomb another failure.