While I think of his undying speech,
I realize his purposeless strength.
The lack of hapless theme,
Brings back to me an ongoing dream.
It is of a feeling I have not before felt,
The touch of Hope’s voice.
I can feel the pain aching inside,
Yet for once I feel the possible choice.
To give my faith to something,
Beyond mortal being.
Trying to grasp ahold of Hope,
I feel a separate voice struggling.
Again I reach for it and feel the conflict.
It is then that I think over why
And I see my fleshly ideology cry
"Don’t give up on my power!"
I answer him by finally breaking his grasp.
The screams that fade away are cowered.
While I find myself in nothingness,
I wonder whether I chose right,
It is then I am granted peace for my old sight.
Hope greets me with a warm embrace,
That gives me personal amnesty for my ’fore disgrace.
But as I look into his eyes,
I see a familiar spirit.
He understands and smiles slightly.
Then whispers quietly "give it to me,
your ready to be free"….