Hope is the branch you grab while falling down a cliff.
Hope is seeing the brighter side of a dark situation. [It's] like turning
the light bulb of hope on to bring light to a dark and bitter soul. It can
also burn out if relied upon too much or if hopes are too high and you're not
ready to accept the consequences of that hope not coming true.
Is hope a thing with feathers?
Can it really keep me warm?
She says it never asked a crumb of her,
But for me it takes a different form.
Hope stands haughty on a mountain top
Its golden coat shining in the sun
Majestic and inspiring
It lures me to push on.
When I finally reach it, though,
And stretch out my weary hand,
Its claws pop out and fangs appear
My heart, it demands.
Then it slowly eats away
At the things that I hold dear
Until there’s nothing left of it—
Not even my own tears.
Now I can’t help but ask myself,
Was Miss Emily right?
So much good can come from hope—
So much warmth and light.
But it only takes a moment
For Hope to change its fickle mind.
That’s when the beauty I once found in it,
No longer can I find.