Hope breathes life;
Its brother despair, readies his knife;
Faith sees his children with a laugh in his eye;
and his wife, mystery, claims all when they die.
Dream on in sweet slumber, for tomorrow drinks from his cup anew;
seeing happily, that he is you.
Yesterday eyes tomorrow with food of falsehood, for he is comfortable,
and tomorrow sits, untouchable.
I sit amidst this family of mine, only to see;
I am all that could be.
And what is to find,
that which can give and take; kill and live?
I never lost it, and never found it.
The family where they sit, sing their hymn;
Breathe and die, flow or stay, stand or sit;
But either get off the pot or shit. :)