1000 plus one

1000 times have I lost hope,

lost wars even without a fight.

1000 times have I slain myself,

no cuts inflicted by others, despite..

1000 times have I fallen into despair,

deep and beyond reach of any light.

Why does the human soul,

who harbors volume after volume

of lives to hope

and hopes to love,

incline to self-ruin and gloomy doom?

What if a chance was given

to golden seeds to blossom and bloom?

And therefor:

1000 times have I lost hope,

1000 plus one I crawled back on my knees!

1000 times for every blade was swung,

not even one has made me bleed!

1000 times have I drowned in darkness,

but further beneath

was a flame within me,

flickering, trembling

yet surviving,

like a gentle candlelight,

enough to burn all demons and devils

and endless seas..