Charcoal, abused by infernal contrast
exists only to support that which is
alone, cannot start yet can extend
until it pales and disappears.
Hope, kindled over a small fire
fed by obtuse promises
inflamed with burning passion
sometimes forgotten, left unturned.
Blackened outlook, charred…over-cooked.
Gingerly clawed at in futility,
knowing inability still attempts
yet physicality has no incorporeal form.
Hope phantasmal as smoke
observable but inquantifiable