Hope

this is an older poem I wrote. I dont know, I think it's nice.

                                                           

 

Some say, bravery is for the broad and brash and strong. That the smaller ones are not brave, because they cannot go fight the wars in which we hold our highest regards, where the young lives of our society are wasted fighting for power.

And some wish for a world with no war, no conflict, no bad things.

But without those things, those petty arguments, what would happen to our faith? Our gods? Without misfortune and the taste of strife ever fresh on our mouths, we would lose sight of our strongest hopes.

Because without the dirty there is no fresh

Because without black there is no white

Because without dark there is no hope.

We are always caught up in the bad of things, so much that we never think to take a step back and value what we believe unbelievably cruel gives to us.