Vacant eyes, hollowed out,

beneath the pupils, nothing,

living in a war-torn city,

rebuilding too far-off-future,

then you see she’s gone.

 

I had a friend named Desiree,

desired, desirer, desire,

Sister to longing, daydreaming

the night-long of fame and song,

and wind-blown hair silhouettes.

 

A wish he once had, only to

love who he touched, touching

how he loved humanity, he loved

me, and hoped only for the best,

a pipe dream’s tuneful beckoning.

 

Without expectation, aspiration,

goals, and dreams, we trudge

the drudgery, life’s dull trails,

without hope beyond mere living;

Salvation’s well overflows with hope.