Indeed a tragic notion, this HOPE one clings to in desperation, this belief in second chances...where have they all gone, why do we not see the danger in HOPE? The futility? To ashes says the dreamer opening his eyes, reborn as the realist…it all begins with ashes and so must end with ashes...yet even the fire needs air to breathe and kindling to grow, so we nourish it with our ‘hope…the dream…the believing’ and fan it alive, paradoxically, with our reluctance to surrender. That fire which “scorch[es] the heart and blacken[s] the soul” cannot exist without its victim rooted in it’s very heart…hope is most beautiful in hopelessness…dreams most real when we are consumed by the flame, and belief the pinnacle of every second chance granted…and in this way, humanity transcends its monstrous nature and reveals the delicate and fragile side of that imperfect and vile creation we call MAN...HOPE is all we have left, and all we ever need. That’s what I saw, hope it made sense. A beautiful poem Mike. :-)

By the way, I know I went a little overboard with my comment/interpretation as I can see your poem is about lost love...I guess I just went a little crazy hahaha ;-)

hmm....i liked this

Good one Mike. It must be good you got one comment longer than the poem. ~(8^D)=(...Charlie

Dark poetry at its best, with a clear firm warning to others; all in all very well presented.

If this was as hard to write as it was to read, I'm coming over to sit in the ashes with you. You have such a clear way of conveying emotion - form and words become simple truths in your hands. Powerful.