Ways to find Hope By: K.M.F
A million tongues wag
at the idea of liberty,
struggling in silence,
to define the abject poverty.

The sounds of a crowd ,
that weighs upon ahead,
mission made it plain ,
absorb the fields of dead.

If only it were a soul,
forgotten buried in a field,
crypts of layered ashes , scattered to the wind.

Taken to a place
that isn’t really known ,
stalactites form the rivers
of a battered broken home.

Thus is the prison,
befalling moral hand,
have known to question
pondered dream sewn.

Treasures of a barren land illuminate the mouth,
of a carved circle in a rock, functionable as a house.

The weird eerie drawings, shadows on a cave,
add light to the moment, imprinted as a grave.

For what choice reared
such a skewed fate
tied to this cursed island,
rescue never came.

As the rays of dawn
breathe it’s final breath
the dragging of a man
preaches the end.
Thank you .