jackie compton


Light at The End


We have heard about it in the darkest of time.
We all look for in the fog of sorrow.
That light at the end of the tunnel.
That single flicker of hope that will us the way.

Yet is not that light at the end of the tunnel.
The one that we are always looking for and search for.
Is it not the reflection in the mirror of ones life.
the polished images of the future and past.

The ones that we open our eyes to see.
When the clock of time seem to be running out on us.
Is it our test of faith to keep climbing.
When we can not praise or course it, because we no not where it
come from.

Who created the light at the end of tunnel.
The one that we all hope and pray to see in our times needs

Submitted: Thursday, May 02, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Light at The End by jackie compton )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Lee F. Majors, Richard Thripp
  2. All Dogs Go 2 Heaven, Richard Flappa
  3. Smashed Potatoes, Richard Thripp
  4. From Our Father, louis rams
  5. Mutually, unwillingly lets go to bed, binod bastola
  6. The Sacrifice, Richard Flappa
  7. The Art Of Living ll, Morgan Michaels
  8. Eid Mubarak!, gajanan mishra
  9. life within, binod bastola
  10. Taking Her Down South, Richard Flappa

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
Beholding me that all the pageants play,
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]