The Bridge Poem by Alexander Downie

There is a old rusty bridge with flaking paint straddling two distant lands,
a forgotten land called “Hope” and a new hatred home called “Despair”.
A wretched war rages around “The Bridge” hindering the lone traveller’s way,
whilst inviting turbulent black waters lash at steal bonded on granite islands below.

Trapped on “The Bridge” you can voyage long days in the black rain or beating sun,
constant barrages in either direction, ever further from “Hope”, ever closer to “Despair”.
Attacks and diversions, a single deafening explosion in the same incessant insanity,
people walk by smiling on their way to “Hope”, while you fall drowning into “Despair”