Hope reaches out to the hopeless
It can crush a mountain of doubts
And awaken the youngest of smiles
It lives in the eyes of the destitute
And dwells in the hearts of the childless
Its weak aroma can be perceived in times of war
Its feathery scratch felt by the separated
“Though we war today, I shall live in peace tomorrow!”
A cry of hope!
Even though we all know the truth
The truth which sounds so bitter and distant
We hold our peace
We keep hoping for better days
We ignore the voice that tries to silence our hope
We keep hoping
We keep hoping for better days
We ignore the voice that tries to silence our hope
We keep hoping
For even the wise know that “hopelessness” is always louder than “hope” itself
By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
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© 2012 Sylvia Chika
1 comment:
Though hope is frail, but it's embers never dies.
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