Hope and Yet More Hope.

Oh how my brain takes me away,
Like a madman's fresh bouquet,
To a world of flame and decay,
And in this place I'll forever stay,
Lest my friend Hope comes to play.

That silent friend to brain and I,
Drying bitter sweet tears I cry,
But for Hope there's a price so high,
My heart consumed forever to fry,
Lest it sprout wings and learn to fly.

When finally it does I'll be free at last,
Of this a most enormous, turgid caste,
The bottom branch of which I held steadfast,
Yet still my soul endeavors to be asked,
Why must Hope be such a lovely blast?

The answer is but crystal clear you see,
For it's what Love and Hope have done to me,
That hath given me this glorious, joyous spree,
For deep within my heart lies a simple tree,
Whose growth from Love and Hope will set you free.

Oh how now I see thee my brain,
To be Hope's servant you must train,
Learn to fill the cracks and crags of pain,
Without which I'd have not to gain,
For now 'tis time to release all strain,

Yet still my heart feels but the same,
Yet with more Hope inside to claim,
And nothing but my brain to blame,
For what my heart hath became,
And thus ends my burning flame.