Hope is the thing that trusts in Him,
When light grows faint and days are dim.
It holds to prayer, worn yet true,
And whispers, “God will guide you through.”
It bends, but never breaks in fear,
For the Creator is always near.
It’s prostration made with tear-streaked face,
And wounds wrapped soft in my Lord’s grace.
It’s patience when the world turns cold,
And hope that makes the shattered whole.
It’s knowing Paradise waits ahead,
For every prayer and tear you’ve shed.
Hope is not loud—it’s deep, it’s still,
It bows the heart to God’s will.
Through every trial, pain, or scar—
Hope says, “With God, not too far.”
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