At The End Of Hope

At the end of hope
What else, crumbling the
dry bodies on earth;
fires of themes, embers
my father is still alive,
and thanks to him
I can still talk to my heart.

My eyes hollowed, out of face
of seeing beyond their reach;
hearts broken and bleeding;
At the end of hope, I alone

by I.P. GOPIKRISHNAN PISHARODY

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