Hope

I bewail our fate, in the cold feel the heat of the day filled with turmoil of living, our tears not enough to hitch up our hope but anyhow we shall she'd them cos from eyes where from honest tears are she'd, however ignoble or humble it might, gives the heart dense with travail of life, however trifle it might be or huge, relief from momentary sorrow. I am sure, the gleam of light is not far from dawn, and the tears we shed now we shall shed no more.
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