I set out in the desert and found no water
Lost my tears and my fears by the side of the road
Trampled on the remnants of my former visions
and nearly tripped and stumbled over specters of my past.
Time elapsed, and in the distance, a rumble
like a river, only I knew somehow that this could never be.
My brain, it seems, that last sad sorry pilgrim
had given up, was playing tricks on me.
I am and always will be something that tries honestly.
I hope to always be the one to tread too far.
But there are moments when you look and say quite honestly
There's nothing that remains to me,
No, nothing that remains to me.
But do you, humble reader, spy my lie?
The title speaks in ancient tongue the answer to the riddle.
I was alone, and lost, and seemingly bereft of all -
but elpida emeina
but hope remained.