Hope

Dig deep. Burrow deeper. Shovel every memory of your past to establish an empirical connection with your now. Picture: A multitude of echoes reverberate every stratum of your existence until you give in. A gigantic ocean consumes you into its grapples stripping off every ounce of energy off you. Crimson oozes drop by drop from wounds, unfathomable. An armada of bullets bury under your chest tearing your flesh apart. You lament. Dirge in the most excruciating of voices. Cries escape your lips against the atrocities you were at the receiving end of. In times of trial and tribulation, you vie for retribution against people who gave up on you when you needed them the most. Against the faction that imbibed every chunk of your ego like a leech suckling on  blood. But. But, you are way too weak to avenge. Too frail to set loose your wings and fly. You wait, instead. Observe in taciturn the pinnacle of indifference society can climb. Get immune to all the gibberish people can't live without shoving in your face. And evolve. Pick up all those sprawled smithereens of yourself and coalesce them with nothing but hope at the crux. Hope; an abstract connotation having the powers to stir your heart. To lift your spirit when it seems badly dampened. Hope; that mere inkling that still believes that there's good out there against all odds. Close your eyes to the world and feel the power of your presence. Gear up yourself so that peoples' intrusion in your life holds no significance. So linger onto hope until death does you part. Relive life. Breathe.