Oh hope!

Oh hope! Thou secreted peace
Or cavernous anguish
Is there no nomadic course of elegance
That leads away from thee
No circuit sage of all the path
Descried by cunning men
To cringe thee of thy sacred prey
Advancing to thy den
So give me back to death
The death I never feared
Except that it deprived of thee
and now, by life deprived
in my own grave I breathe
and estimate its size
Its size is all that Hell can guess
and all that Heaven was
Still own thee
Still thou art
What surgeons call alive
Though slipping -- slipping I perceive

By :- Bhuwan Thapaliya
Kathmandu
e-mail :- sweetzypher@hotmail.com

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