The Hope

Hope is the heaviest weight we carry
Hope is the toughest love to sustain.

Hope is the shiniest bowl in my room
Hope is the most fragile bowl in my room.

Every time it breaks, I sit in the night
By the candlelight
And I patch it with the glue of a poem.
Then I go out in search of stones.

Hope is the most innocent one
It rises and floats and dances
In the absence of the conscious one.
When I come back
I find it broken again.

I sit by the candlelight
I patch it again with a new poem.

Altered so many times that
It has forgotten its natural shape.
The neural network in my brain
Has recognized a pattern
Every time, hope rises
It will break!

But the bowl of hope
Shines in the candlelight
Hoping for a miracle.

Hope is my over in the field
They prevent me from going there.
I barely recovered from a shoulder injury
That I broke my leg last night
They had to cut it off.
My doctor says I can't play cricket again.
I limp to the field.
My shoulders are still sore
For hope is the heaviest weight I carry.

Hope is the Potter's masterpiece
But it rains every time he puts it to dry.
The masterpiece turns into clay again
I go and collect the clay
And put it on the chalk in the candlelight.
For working on the masterpiece
And watching it turn into clay again.

I hold the ball cross-seam in my hand
For all the shine of my life is long gone.
I know what's going to happen next
I will crash under the weight of hope
And they will cut my other leg.
Then the hand and the other hand
One by one, I will give my parts away
I will vanish into the cruel hope breaking world
And I will die alone in desperation.

But my sole attempt is
That hope should not die before me
Hope should live near my deathbed
For there is no life without hope.