Hope is the whisper at the edge of night,
A candle unbending against the wind’s bite.
It gathers the broken, the weary, the small,
And teaches their shadows to stand up tall.

It hides in the cracks of the hardest stone,
A seed that insists it can bloom alone.
It sings in the silence when fear grows loud,
A sky breaking open, releasing the cloud.

Hope is not fragile, though soft in its tone,
It carries the weight we cannot bear alone.
It dares us to dream, though the night feels long,
Turning tomorrow into a song.