The eyes that don't want to meet,

The hearts that don't say sorry.

The ego that is too big to bend

The lips sealed by years of hurt.

Something has to fall, has to give in.

First the citadels of ego, perhaps.

Then maybe the screens of the past.

Only then, finally, can hope be born.

The hope that will fill colour again.

The hope that will make life bearable.

The hope that promises joys galore,

The hope that will make a happy end.