The world was once filled with opportunities that stretched on for miles.
Yet, every piece of its puzzle was never an exact match.
Yet, this could not deter him.
So, when he blew into town, the words that came from his constituents were amplified to more significant distortion.
No, it made him stronger, power-hungry even.
He wanted to let people know that no matter the cost, there was a mission to complete.
That our new reality would change, and those better days would eventually materialize.
He wanted hope to be restored to his people and his promised land.
Because abandoning his cause meant losing everything, which was not an option.
There was always someone there to steamroll him into making decisions that weren’t right for him.
He called for a wider community, people who could help him achieve his goals and pave the way to his mission.
No one wanted to help him through.
I mean, they thought he had his head in the clouds.
“You’re being ridiculous, absurd.” They spoke.
“Why should we believe that everything will be ok?” They yelled.
“I have faith.” He screamed.
A sun would shine on the overcast days, and everything would turn anew.
He was fixated that nothing egregious could stand in his way as victory stood on the horizon.
As he stood in front of the village, he reassured them that they could do anything.
And soon, things started to get better.
The tension in the air dissipated as his deliverance washed over his people.
“A beacon of optimism,” they called him.
No matter where they went, everyone realized that no matter how hard you fought or how much you persevered…
They would try and push on to become immaculate beings.
A new ray of light for others to adhere to.
All that mattered was that the hope never died out.
So that the next generation and the generation after that had something to look forward to.
UnaPOETgetically Me 