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A Weight of Hope
A sadness, deep, upon our shoulders pressed,
A weight that bends the spirit's lofty flight,
Debilitating, in our hearts confessed,
A shadow veiling every morning light.
Yet through the dusk, a golden thread does weave,
A hope, ethereal, within the gloom,
It whispers softly, bidding us believe,
In gardens yet to bloom, in days of boon.
Though burdens crush, and tears may often fall,
The soul endures, with courage replete,
For hope, a beacon, stands amidst it all,
A light that makes our darkest hours sweet.
O weighty sorrow, tempered with such grace,
Thy presence brings a promise yet unseen,
In every trial, hope's tender embrace,
Transcends the night, and paints the dawn serene.
