Hope

Hope is not a blazing fire,

it does not roar or rise—

it lives within the quiet ash

where something softer lies.

It whispers when the night is long,

when roads have disappeared,

a fragile voice that still remains

when everything is feared.

It grows in cracks of broken days,

in places left behind,

a stubborn light that will not fade,

though shadows cloud the mind.

Hope does not promise easy paths

or freedom from the fall,

but teaches hearts to rise again

and answer when life calls.

So hold it close when storms arrive,

when skies are torn apart—

for hope is not outside of you,

it’s beating in your heart.