Hope is a beautiful thing.

In the eyes of a sad day
Hope is a beautiful thing.
a passing fancy of light,
A missing word in a book.
It has death at its short-end
forgetting not our pylons.
Hope is a string of wide faith.

I do believe in the dark
It gives us the light we need.
It gives the chickens feathers
and the mosquito, stealth suit.
It says, the fairies exist.
Hope is the last line of strength
when weakness has deceived us.

Ruddapoet