Series of Hope

Shows the Importance of Literary Devices.

1. Colorless World

The world was dark, not a sound was spoken. All was dead, there was no rain, no hope, no life. Could such a thing be? Yes. Such a thing was. A dream, that was all it is, a simple, unhappy dream. Was such a dream a possibility? It was now. Every person slept on, maybe forever. Maybe for a minute of a day. Maybe for an hour of a month. It was unknown, it was always unknown.

2. Here Lies Hope

The soft patter of the rain on the window sounded like a gentle knocking, letting me know that everything will be okay. The trees outside waved to me as though I was a long lost friend. The tears that had once been streaming down my face that once was a waterfall crashing amongst the rocks in a river, they were now gone. The bright sunlight from the rising sun like a beacon of hope. Reminding me that everything will turn out perfectly, that this was all meant to be. However, the deepening darkness drank away the light, deafening the defining traits of humanity. A gentle ‘hush’ filled the room, the sound of the thunder now booming like a gun going off in the otherwise peacefulness. Ages seem to pass before a single sound other than the storm could be heard, eons where all I did was sit there and wait for time to return. The simple seconds seeming like an eternity. And then, finally, an unheard whisper fills the room, bringing the undead back once more. Each time lightning flashed, it was nothing more than images from a black and white picture film, changing from one scene to another like clockwork.

  3. Here Lies the Hope Of A Colorless World

The world was covered in the consuming darkness, which spread out and ate away at everything it could find. The bright sunlight from the rising sun like a beacon of hope. Reminding me that everything will turn out perfectly, that this was all meant to be. But no matter how fast it rose, the deepening darkness drank away the light and deafening the definition of humanity. The patter of the rain as it knocked on the outside of the room slowly become an unheard whisper; illuminating the soundless night with the gentleness of a caring friend. Every few seconds, the quiet hush was interrupted by the booming of thunder, which could be considered a gun exploding as the trigger was pulled. After every strike of thunder that visited the sky, a bright and beautiful flash of lightning streaked through the darkening morning light. Seeming like an old picture film, switching from one scene to the next like clockwork, only here to entertain those watching. A dream, that was all it is, a simple, unhappy dream. Is such a dream a possibility? It was now. After an eternity of waiting, the storm passed, bringing back the undead of the sleeping humanity of the world to life once again. How long those under the enchantment had slept was unknown. It was always unknown.