“Even in the darkest of moments, a slice of light will crack through” Gun Roswell

Light at the end of the very dark tunnel

The darkness long and harsh, without any redeeming parts
The land, the sky, the ocean once blue, painted in the same hue
Of greyish black, dark as the heart of the dwellers without a clue
On how to and this all and to get back into the ways of light
As despite, all their efforts to gather up some slice of the nice
And warming softly burning fiery light, there had not been any signs
Of the darkness letting on and so, trying to remain calm and strong
The dwellers patiently waited and kept on looking into the horizon
For any and all signs of the bringer of light to be anytime soon rising
There was a long time spent, just doing nothing special to relent
To the thoughts of never ever seeing the hope in the air
Yielding into to semi permeant despair, as all the things to repair
The missing life of the light had failed but there was one who dared
To hop and sit and stare, at the tunnel of darkness but seeing the end
And there, the very hope of light, and standing guard just in case
The light could be spared all through the tunnel and to all others
Simply waiting in strife, and perhaps tomorrow would bring it forth