The Death of Hope

From the pit of mice, I looked above

To see a bird, was it a dove?

It had black wings, freedom endures

So far away, and yet so close

I reach out, the bird may notice 

She does, and sits nearby for this

For this is an execution, a murder of hope

Hope screams out, but only a croak

"Help me bird, I need thee now!"

The birds head, dips in a bow

"I am confused, so far away I fly"

Hope clings on, for it must try

Too late fool, you have perished

But the birds beauty, I always cherished

The last sight that I see, is the Raven flying away from me 

Happy, free and flying, that is what you must be