What's expected of this thing called hope; <br />is it a medicine; is it just smoke? <br />Merely a screen - perhaps a misty haze, <br />to sweeten our journey around life’s maze? <br /> <br />Is faith a hope, divinely inspired <br />which the faithless maintain is not required; <br />A sin maybe, to be kept in a box; <br />an evil, a tyrant - a deadly pox? <br /> <br />Empty, hope against hope, false or forlorn; <br />are these mere illusions; a child stillborn, <br />or a crutch, a bridge, a sweet panacea, <br />to deal with our angst and eternal fear? <br /> <br />Sometimes described as mother of rumour, <br />seen by others as father of humour, <br />but what is the truth of hope’s rightful place, <br />in the future life of our doubting race? <br /> <br />With all evils but hope freed to the air <br />our good world was lost to grief and despair. <br />Pandora at last leased hope from its ties, <br />allowing the world to live with its lies. <br /> <br />For without hope, love lies repulsed, denied, <br />life soon becomes sour, withered and dry <br />Hope and love remain, forever entwined, <br />enshrined in faith for all mankind<br /><br />Sailing to windward<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/0-pandora-s-hope/
