A place of outcome and despair,
Where the innocent and wicked share
A shadowed fate, beneath the cruel eye—
Young voices rise, yet sink in sigh.
Behind the bars, hope grows thin,
But dreams of spring still bloom within.
The young ones hum a mournful tune,
Echoed by stars, eclipsed by the moon.
Father and mother in anguish cry,
For justice mocked, for truth denied.
Their pleas like whispers in the air,
Struggle to mend a world unfair.
How can the sun arise in grace,
When shrouded by the moon’s embrace?
How can the tree sway in delight,
When severed from its roots by blight?
Yet even winter’s biting breath
Cannot condemn all life to death.
The seeds of spring still lie below,
Awaiting warmth, a chance to grow.
So sing, though sorrow fills the air,
For joy may follow despair.
The cage may hold, but not forever—
Hope’s light endures, a boundless tether.
©michaelc
M