Each day ends with hope.
The next day comes with a new hope.
It doesn't matter, how much will you obtain?
But hope always relieves our pain.
It doesn't matter, how much you have suffered?
But the hope has been a friend of your painful heart.
Hope is a friend made with divine essence,
never makes us exaggerative; but saves our soul of being a desert.
So, HOPE, You do exist in our soul, in our heart
and, of course, in our luck.
Bad times already have punished me-
but You always rescue my life against the Dark.
BIBHAKAR DUTTA
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hope-680/
