False hope

At the end of the tunnel is there really a light?
like the sun peering through dusk breaking the night.
Is it just an hallucination, unreality among dreams?
like and illusion which makes out its better than it seams.
Is crying the sign of your own self pity?
like losing your self in a shadowed city.
Is it a foolish phrase which makes one believe?
as it taunts and through your fear it weave.

But one holds on to what it could be,
then it disappears, watch it scatter and flee.
Feel it shatter and break one deep inside,
anger along with sorrow mix and collide.
The words now broken and what it said,
the promise it made, gone, vanished, dead.
But one reaches out, grabs it and holds it tight,
just to see the end of the tunnel where there is a light.