In the Hope that Seems Eternal

In the hope that seems eternal, the hand of time appears immobile.
We seek, through myriad clouds, somehow to undo the menacing shrouds.
Their bonds with time has occurred, in some unknown way undeterred.
Clouds and shrouds, then in some way, must have each other befriended.
Enemies of clarity and the flow of time, they are in the human heart;
With their mighty chains, holding time hostage they win.
Like spies when they marched to make bonds with the time,
Unnoticed they must have entered the corridors of the heart.
Unrecognized they probably mingled with the crowd of thoughts
To overwhelm the mind, and thus hold it in suspense
Until they finally captured the mind.
Attacking the troops of joy,
They wage a battle in search of gloom;
When conquered, the gladness is doomed.
Within the walls of gloom, the mind is emboldened.
In its hunt for vanished gladness,
Through the envelope of darkness,
Ventures it out over the walls of gloom
To regain that freedom of thought that is lost.
We should defeat any gloom that hides within,
Appoint the mind as the guardian of the heart.
Through ramparts of heart, we should prohibit
Worries and darkness that obliterates solace.
Let streams of strength and beams of beauty
Roll through the rampart of heart.

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This Poems Story

Worries and fears sometimes dictate the mind until somehow the mind looks out in search of some beauty in an effort to regain the freedom of thought. Thus, they become, though unwelcome, dictators that push us into a path in search of true strength and beauty.