In the Box

Pandora's box held Despair 
it held the fated end,

humanity held in a snare
of their own offends

but after the release, 

in the box remained
a single little spirit

a scant, simple thing; chained
glowing a dull chalcopyrite

a gentle glow that won't cease.

the darkness is swirling, curling
drowning all who look

but this slight spirit with wings of a starling
could fly high over the hills and brooks
of all the sneaking Despair

but for now this spirit stays
stays in the shuttered box

cloistered and hidden away
till the lid pops

and Hope can come back to humanity.