Awaken

He’s about to see another way,
Like a feather lifted on the hot breath
of the private hell  
where crushed souls lay crouching, fragile,
straining for that glimpse
they’ve invested a lifetime in believing.
Hope will unfold like a golden Poppy renewed,
a fragile bloom strengthened by faith,
shedding the unawakened nightmare.

He knows not why he spiraled down.
Nary a glimpse then.
There was no stopping, no redemption.
No awakening from the Inferno.
Until with just a glimpse, hope found him.
Was the journey a test, a demand of proof that
his lifetime believing was right?
Or was it to show that You can.
He fears he will visit again.
Another glimpse can stop it before it starts.
Unless You can’t or won’t.