Death of Hope
Sticks and stones can brake my bones,
But words will one day kill me.
For I am more of an insecure child,
Than a confident leader. But lead them I must.
And they will attack me with all three you see.
When the sticks and stones of the bold can reach me no more,
The words of the cunning will deliver the final blow.
The death of me will result in both mourning and celebration.
And when the sun sets,
Never to rise again,
You will realize,
That the words destroyed the hope,
And without hope,
There is nothing,
Only,
Darkness.