In nights of disappointment and failure,
where nothing seems to move on,
as if the whole world have closed it's
eyes for a drowsy sleep,
Hope is the bird with wings,
wings that cry not, wings that weep not, but-
fly.
In nights of pain and loneliness,
where dusky stars play with the teary eyes,
and the cold wind howl with the dogs in
the street,
Hope is the cloud that rains,
rains over the whole dry wasteland,
in sweet little ways.
In nights of gloomy fear and murky worry,
where witches chuckle and ghosts hoot,
Hope is the heaven with angels,
angels of courage and laughter,
spirit and power, love and care.
Hope is nothing-O! hope is nothing,
It is just an illusion, a spark,
created by an inner voice, a voice
that eats the dusk,
And bring a new dawn, a dawn with
blossomed flowers.
Piyush Dey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/it-is-just-hope-an-illusion/
