She forced herself out the front door
Running all bersek, as if no floor.
Up all the way to the terrace,
Shedding a tear, a sigh, all with a sublime grimace.
She made her way to the ledge, hesitant,
Climbed up and stood there, the young aspirant.
And there she was, still, and pondering.
Whether the next step, would be worth the sting.
She thought she’d escape the pain,
Of humiliations and failures that stain.
But failed to recognize what was at vain,
Friends, Family, Love and Talent, all slain.
She shook on the sudden thud of thunder,
And shrieked upon the blinding streaks of lightning.
That was probably the Gods, condemning her blunder,
Which slowly pushed her into whining.
She stepped away and ran back down tripping,
Gradually, slid into her Mother’s arms weeping.
And it was there she decided,
That wherever Love presided,
Hope would never stay reprimanded.