The death of hope

Death does not arrive unannounced at hope’s door.

Its dark silhouette looms in the distance, long before its labored steps are audible.

Hope is not to be whisked away suddenly and painlessly to the dark realm.

Death doesn’t offer hope a gracious handshake.

It permeates her very soul. Slowly, like a cancer savoring its malignant work.

Hope is a worthy adversary who fights to the bitter end.

There is first the burning flame, then a pale and wispy glow.  Then a flicker, almost imperceptible.

And just as you think it is over, there is an illusion of a renewed flame

Like a mythical phoenix rising from the ashes.

Alas, only mythical. As out of touch with reality as hope had been her entire life.

And then it ends in a forgotten moment. Who remembers when the last leaf falls in winter?

And I am left with naught but the fragile urn that holds her memories,

As death solemnly quotes a  truism for the ages:

“There is no pain for those I take away, only for those I leave behind”

Reviews

[Chris]

This one fills a spot in my years-end memories. Dealing is what we all do in our own ways... Quite a thought-full work.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Illustratively inventive battle between death and hope...
and yes the ones who suffer most are the ones left behind to grieve.
j.

[John the Baptist]

Somber but eloquently put, this one. It seems to embrace the tragic view of life, almost like an echo of Ecclesiastes. I would not adopt it as a philosophy of life, but it is indeed beautifully written.