If you are acquainted with hope intimately you will know it is a double edged sword. It can fill you with will, direction and strength. It can also feed you a thousand nails while you hope for a single grain of sugar, blind you, tell you everything is okay while the building burns around you.

The following is a little doddle before I go to bed.

Hope

Her dress glistens in the wind
breaks the run and rails of an dull guillotine.

The pied piper has all our songs,
still he waits for the cue of our broken porcelain hand.

Her dress flays in the wind
runs rails and hearts to afresh guillotine.

I've had a couple of drinks. :) Thought I would do a little experiment and try to write something in something other than a pile of characters formed into incoherent lines.

Hope

Painted into the lightest cloud in the sky
Standing in the the final moments of time not lapsed.
Distilled in a friend, drip fed between arms
Hope guides the eye to the horizon
Shouts Never say die.