A 10-Minute Scribble of Hope

the morning dew glistens on feathered petals
alive with promise

the moments past, having past, are soaked up by
the streaming rays of sunshine

the wounds of yesteryear are soothed and wrapped
in fresh layers of quiet peace

all my aching yesterdays are quietly consigned
to the deep recesses of memory

haunting me no longer and tormenting me no more
as I shed the weight of the cross I so reluctantly bore

for tomorrow is alive with new hope

of gentle laughter
with quietly sipped joy
of sweet memories yet to be woven
and whispered songs yet to be sung inside
of scribbled poems yet to penned
and joyous tears yet to be cried

for tomorrow is alive with new hope

of sweetly scented roses blooming all around
and murmurs of delight in moments yet to be realised
of warmth and depth and freedom from pain
and of lost touches of myself once again sought after and found

for tomorrow is alive with new hope

of a new beginning devoid of the guilt of past decay
and of freshness in the very essence of this new day

with lilting melodies floating on the silken breeze
while banishing all pain and setting the mind at ease

for tomorrow is alive with new hope
and this very hope is what keeps the gloomy nights afar
for the emptiness is lit up with the shimmering of a solitary star
and it’s this very hope that I hold onto with my dear life
never to give in again to bleak thoughts of mental strife

and so hope it is, and hope it must always be
that keeps the sanity within and sets my soul free

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