Hope

hōp

our hopeful souls went

our hopeful souls went
marching to the fields of fate
in the slanting rain

i traded these chains 
for a walking stick and a 
pocket full of sand

i hope to win but 
hope is not a strategy 
and strategy wins

i twist as i fall 
and cling to the rumor that 
there is no bottom

a man is happy
who thanks to reason has ceased
to hope or to fear