The Only Hope

Hope Poem

They’d almost killed me.
I saw them coming,
grinning, shouting.

The sun was down,
the sky was frowning,
the moon was an evil clown.

I knew I was being watched,
and fate had deserted me
alone in the blackest sea.

I knew I had to hide and pray,
’cause they were after me,
and soon there would be no way

to make a further step,
to feel my pulse, my stride,
I had to find it from inside.

I didn’t run. I stopped.
I knew I had to fight.
For? For the only hope.

more by Georgi Dimitrov

photograph by Charles Forerunner

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