Hope

It is not a feast, and doubt at least, I fear, open lips would pray tell one point, spread far and high, how doubt is such a demon, with those with legs and ceiling’s drift. And doubt spread long in a tireless song, how a single tear, can raise, another glass, single praised? I never know in solitude rest, how hands worthy in a nomad screen to test, and often in these days hid cold, how technology is just a part of another test reaped gold? I do not have a drought hid show, to wisdom sheltered and wisdom held know, or just a walk in solitude shy, how doubt at night, can yield a fire, and rest in continued motion show, just one word, the crow, I know to sow? I fashion ease, where temperance kite, the written word, is a little night, or a shadows flirt, where others tease, is it safety, alone held knees? I do not know, a fashion lit, yet feast hid crime, my name held focus, yet never hands together another to chime? Often balance held in show, how hands together, in tolerance grow, or doubt eternal, in safety grip, two names fashioned, yet mine a slip? I never know where shadows move, where light would tend, that I, a sheltered movement hoof? Or two flown mercy silence long, rest is just a fashioned song? A little mercy held in save, hope, is four words not one a maze. And often, a rest, in solitude fear, one hope too many, and a child questions, till two hands outwards rest in another near? To proove held worth and trophy sign, is it my voice, and what name held chime? Hope, it is such a morcel fame, and often together is it a claim? Or just a breath to find all paths sort know, and just to know, that God too can grow. I little touch, can you smell the arrogance shame, or eyes slight knowing, and the name, should I blame?