Hope was a gentle ache of promise,
of what comes and what goes.
Hope was a carnival, lit up by a thousand stars,
bursting with luminescent colors and magical illusions.
Hope was like a pillow, a place of comfort and serenity.
Hope was everything.
But right now,
Hope feels like an illusion, one that’ll always be far from reach.
Hope feels like a never-ending storm,
with the feeling of uncertainty hanging over our heads.
Hope has turned itself into a peculiar shade of gray,
filled with dark shadows and colorless rainbows.
Hope has diluted everything into an eerie film of black,
coating up our desires in a tint of shadow and dust.
But everything seems darker than it was before.
Hope has left without a sound.