The Gift Of Hope

As my unrestrained life in the turbulent times crumbles in the crushing clutch of stifling suffering, my heart bleeds in inflicted pangs of vulnerability, the arms of hope remains remote for me to cling. My boat wrecks in the high seas in the storm of agony, I strive to swim to the elusive shore of revival receding. The inner voice vainly conveys optimistic I should be, distracted hope reminds me every cloud has silver lining. As the sane senses fade at sunset, dismal night falls, I know the sun must sink to rise again with hope, and inspire the Phoenix in me to arise from distress dust. I wait for the calming dawn of faith to erase my affliction. In the cracked cinnamon ground parched to the core, my desert of desolation pervades, sneaking in the sly within the faded sanguine veins of the fragile leaves, echoing the evergreen hymn of hope in their rustle. Traversing the dark corridor of self-defeat I travel within, discover the divine light in the precincts of the soul. I surrender totally to His radiant omnipresence, and remain subservient to His benevolence for help. I get the inner strength to hold up the falling sky, that keeps me going out of the struggling times. As the heavenly touch pulls me through the suffering, I get the gift of sedate hope for the blessed life’s recovery.