Let us call it hope ...
Unexpectedly all faiths have death throes
At the gallows…
Tomorrow’s dreams beg for assistance.
I have no right to be done in,
Even the pestering questions of silence are not run out.
Even they look like a decoration on my feet, shackles are heavier than me,
Even so, still there is a total hope making my steps fast.
I get my head into my hands sometimes,
My fingers caressing intersection points of wrinkles around my eyes, on my face.
Even so, still there is a hope for the future.
As the replies don’t come, the addresses of salutation would change often and often,
Unexpectedly I would be startled at my own voice,
I would be embarrassed a bit; I would be too sorry to say a word…
Even so that voice… again that voice… I don’t know whoever it is…
Let us call it hope