My hope is never eternal. I can only wish for day to day.
Tomorrow’s promise of renewed faith sets in my soul, playing chords of beautiful music to soothe my wounded spirit.
Do I dare believe its song? Allow myself the delusion of its melody?
My fantasy of hope lands lightly, like a butterfly on my nose. So sweet and gentle, tickling my conscious of what could be.
But like the butterfly, hope flies away and I am again left alone in my reality.