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"….

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