In the breadth of yesterday,
Hope knew birth in the breaking dawn.

Hope lived to know a day in the sun.
At the peak of midday,
The day was halfway done.

The sun later came to rest;
The life of hope could only do the same.
Light did shine, come to fade,
As did the spark in her eyes.

She looked to the sky in longing,
Hoping to steal more than a glance
Of the hope of a light that did shine
From within and without.

To steal the light of hope
Where it lived fated to be robbed
In the setting of the sun
Where time had decreed
The day of hope was done.

She contemplated what hope did bring.
Oh, how its loss did sting —
And yet she drifted close towards remembrance
In the cold light of the moon;
In transmuted sunlight manifest.

The light of hope reflected upon her face.
She wore its soft embrace in a silken sheen,
Permeated in closeness to her skin.

The quality of hope had changed.
She wore its ghost,
Unashamed.

---

There were no more days in the sun.
There were no more nights to follow.

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Today, I know grief.