I call you Hope

Dedicated to no 1. As there is no hope. The words have gathered quietly to moan They are descending hills, and climbing waves In quiet mourn The words have been worn out like clothes Still mummies working on their curse Three. And a tree The story says they were three: A God A man And a woman All chained down to a tree They have parted eventually. And that’s how the story ends The Words said Sad, the words To One To the one I love: If you were a word, than I would be the other One