Prophet of Hope

I went out and caught myself a falling star.

Shook a million glittering shards of diamond dust from her hair before I set her free to roam the universe again.

The Prophet of Hope was trapped in a box once upon a time. Claustrophobia is the bane of her existence but you and I know, hope was never meant to be

locked in a gilded cage for it is a fate worse than death to one who is meant to touch others in their moments of need.

She will kiss your eyelids while you sleep; leaving nothing behind but the scent of celestial roses.

As her presence fades away along with the shadows of the night, in your heart you know it is the start of a brand new day for the solar son rides his chariot across the morning sky.

The prophets are coming, one after another… each gift heralds a gentle rise and fall of tides that make up the cycle of life.

Hope may be long gone by the time you awake… but tonight, I’m feeling generous so I’m sending out diamond dust to all of you who may want to make a wish upon a falling star.

The beast was here all along…

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Poetry for The Diary and Diary of a Broken Soul Blog by Ash Abdullah