The plinth, when all is lost The distinction between surviving and suicide in the mist of deep depression Endeavor and neglect Remaining vanquished or brushing off the dust of defeat What else can there be? A burgeoning nation in search Pervasive feuds, sufferings endured When all seem worthless Living in hope Some dying in expectation as days run into weeks Weeks into months Months into years Outliving over decades, indignity tolerable The pilgrims of old Persevere the holocaust Though an end not sighted, in the smokescreen of life Trusting that someday, the tides will turn The dark gloomy clouds will lift Night will give way to day The sun emerging in its splendor as the dark sky recedes For in the absence of hope What will mankind have? Surely there should be something to live for To strive for To believe in To die for To stand for In the midst of turbulent cascading events Hope is all