Hope.
Dark and alone,
Her miserable soul.
Just like a lonely street at night.
She tried and tried,
But couldn't find-
Herself; a beacon of light.
She stood not tall,
And all forlorn.
That girl who was all but fine.
She found herself at the crack of dawn,
A little ray
Of hope and sunshine.
A blessed soul she thought she was-
For she hadn't seen before such a beautiful sight.
It gave her strength to move on;
And not give up without a fight.
She made up her mind,
To try; to take flight
Until she had conquered
Her most vicious dreams and all her frights.
A/N: I'm not going to pressurise you or anything, but please can you vote and spread this poem around? I'd be very happy if you did! :)
-husnal:)
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pessimism in ruins
Randompes·si·mism(pesəˌmizəm) a tendency to see the worst aspect of things or believe that the worst will happen; a lack of hope or confidence in the future. "You may write me down in History With your bitter, twisted lies, You may tread me in the very d...
