Beacon

The storm slowly pushes in,
Thunder of despair, lightning of sorrow,
Rain of sadness, and wind of fear.
I sit, huddled in my shelter of hope,
as the storm grows in strength, I hope.
As the rain pushes is way into the cracks, I hope.
The thunder frightens me, and I hope.
I hope for sunny days, gentle breezes,
and beams of sunlight, I hope.
With each crackle of lighting my hope grows,
and with the growing hope, my shelter strengthens.
Hope is small, weak, almost invisible at first,
As despair creeps though, hope explodes,
A beacon in the storm.

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