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wing
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2021-03-26
Hope
Hope. Hope is a fragile thing, A delicate flower, Afraid of being crushed, But it keeps on growing anyway. Hope. Hope is a flame, Burning night and day, The fear of burning out, But it keeps on blazing anyway. Hope. Hope is a bird, Flying forever further, higher, than ever before, Crossing boundaries never spoken of, Never crossed before, Fearful of crashing down, down, down, never to be seen again. But it keeps on soaring anyway, never tiring it’s wings. It’s delicate, flowering wings. It’s bright, flaming wings. It’s hopeful wings.