Hope is not just a rope to which we cling;
Not merely a beating tiny wing;
Not at all a weak, and fragile thing;
Or a single timid voice that sings.
I know hope is strong, for if scarcely lost,
Our wounded souls will count the cost!
We’ll hold no warmth, be chilled by frost!
Great hope must be, for severe it’s loss!
Hope is partnered well with faith;
Love may be, more surpassing great.
Still do not hope underestimate.
Hope is a conquering, not feeble state!
Hope it rises from the dark!
Bearing no stain in whiteness stark!
Angel’s lips herald it’s hark!
Countless dead rise with it’s mark!
Hope is advancing, it is not still!
May be oppressed, but can’t be killed!
A harvest ready endless field.
It shall remain. For. So. God. Willed.
Hope is living breathing strong!
A great, mighty wind gusting long!
A loud, and shouting growing throng!
A million voices raised in song!