I used to think it strange,
Listening to the old fable,
That Hope kept such bad company
In Pandora’s gilded box.
Curiosity got the better of her,
As it usually does,
And horrors were released
By vindictive deities.
War
Hatred
Greed
Pain
Disease
Poverty
Death
And yet Hope was left behind,
Sealed in tight
When Pandora realized the trick
Played on her by fate.
But I think I understand now.
Hope can be beautiful,
But it can also bring us pain.
A pain we live with every day.
We hold out Hope,
Waiting for things to change,
To be better,
To make a difference
To save us.
And yet.
Hope can be the pain in our chests,
The fog in our eyes.
Hope lingers just out of reach,
Mocking our suffering.
I think I understand the story now.
© The Lightning Tower, 2020