Hope is nestled in the darkest corners of my mind
Penetrated by slivers of light
Conjured up by dreams and aspirations
Hope is knowing there must be more
The end is yet beyond my sight
Hope is the tiny carpet on which my
Imagination wanders the vast open spaces of what could be
Hope is distingushable only by the slightest breeze of euphoria
Unaccompanied with desperation
Hope is the thread of which my soul hangs on the tattered rope of life
Hope is my morning cup of coffee my cold shower my enthusiasm for the day's existence
Hope is my serenity my survival from chaos the killer of my pain
Hope is my nucleus the very core of my being
My shelter my water my breathe
Were it not for hope
