"Welcome, good stranger!

I saw a man today

and peered closely into the white

of his wearisome heavy eyes,

but there was nothing apart from

the worn out batteries of hope and

shattered windows of opportunity.

The air held a pungent stench

of optimism long decayed

with empty bottles of the finest

'Vigour' lying strewn around.

The light of passion was long gone,

the candles of faith long burned out.

The cupboard marked 'Goals and Dreams'

held skeletons draped in rich robes,

robes that time and vermin

had conquered ages ago.

The golden shield marked 'Bravery'

was nothing but a rusty old remnant

of past triumphs known and untold.

On the table- or what was left of it-

was a beautiful card that said;

"Welcome, good stranger!

You will see that I'm very much alive inside,

the belief in my vision ever so strong

by passion's light so bright."

Obviously the card hadn't thought

of times and trials much ahead.

But, unlike the rest of this room's

tattered and battered remains,

the card was still as good as new.

Perhaps, despite the appalling rot all around,

it held belief that the tides change

and that fortunes also turn around.

They say the eyes are the soul's window;

this I believe holds truth.

This account I write is true for

many a soul that walks beside you.

I pray that, in each one of them,

there may be a welcome card

that sits upon a table with joy;

the one beacon of hope waiting for

the light at the end of the tunnel.

                                                        Alpha