“When Hope Cries”

When “hope” cries…
When “dreams” sleep…
When “breathing” gasps…

That’s when the silence becomes louder than thunder,

when the heart carries bricks instead of blood,

when faith feels like a rumor whispered

in a language I used to know.

Hope—she bends at the knees,

her voice trembling like a child

asking if love is real this time.

Her tears don’t fall to the ground—

they suspend in the air,

reminding us that even the strongest light

can flicker.

Dreams—once wild stallions

running through midnight fields,

are now curled in corners,

restless,

tossing in sleep that feels like chains.

They whisper in half-finished sentences,

“Don’t forget us…

don’t bury us alive

beneath calendars and scars.”

Breath—oh breath—

the most ancient prayer,

now struggles through lungs like a beggar

at a locked door.

It gasps,

it clutches at the edges of existence,

and in that desperate rhythm,

I hear the truth,

to be alive is to wrestle

between suffocation and song.

So when hope cries,

I will hold her.

When dreams sleep,

I will keep watch.

When breath gasps,

I will whisper back,

“You are not alone.

Relax

and stay awhile.”

Because even when the world collapses

into ache,

the echo of a heartbeat

is proof enough—

that life still offers peace.