A Room Called Hope. Poem by MIRAK Montiel

A Room Called Hope

Many words bring me peace,
Yet I search and find them lost—
Scattered, silent,
Far from reach,
Like whispers swallowed by the frost.

I write to soothe my aching soul,
To guide me through the night.
My mind—
A thousand horses run,
Stampeding out of sight.

I'm sinking slow in quiet sand,
No hand appears to pull me free.
Maybe I am blind to light,
Or maybe none will come for me.

The echoes ring,
Of things gone wrong,
Mistakes that mark today.
Still trapped inside the same four walls,
Still hoping pain will fade away.

I wait—
For dream or nightmare's end,
For breath,
For peace,
For break or bend.
A silent prayer in heavy air,
Someday, somehow,
I'll get there.