Hope is made from –

the fading hatred in the back of one’s heart,

the slowing heartbeats of a man in main,

a rusty coin being tossed into a homeless man’s hat

and an owl dropping a scared rodent from it’s beak.

I found hope –

hiding away from mankind like a mouse in a hole,

in the second hit of a piercing sword,

in the chorus of a touching song,

inside of mother bird’s lost egg

and hidden in the cracks of the walls.

Hope has the power to –

Shatter the memories of a nightmare,

catch a shooting star before it hits the ground,

silence the hard rain only for you to sleep in peace,

save the pheasants that get knocked out of a tree

and sing a lullaby to an orphan.

If all hope was lost –

a dog would lose it’s cheer,

a wolf would get lost from it’s pack

and a pirate would walk the plank without a fight.

The distant starry eyes are

as dark as a vicious black bear in the depths of the forest,

like the countryside midnight sky in the middle of June.

The velvet rose’s petals are

as red as Snow White’s deadly apple,

like grand  theatre curtain before a show.

The burning fire is

as bright as a candle flame in the darkness,

like the silver moon on a black canvas.

The lion’s jaws are

as hard as Earth’s cement holding us up,

like a villain’s fading heart.

The poisonous berries are

as sour as an evil king’s thoughts,

like a demon living inside of your weak stomach.