Hope (Nano-Tale)

At the verge of destruction, there was hope. A hope, to kindle the ever blessed state of uncertainty, was there, always for me. The meaning itself search for the uncertain juncture of monotony. The mirror of faith, looks back, gives a sigh, asks something gruesome and hard. At that moment, at that very moment of nothingness, there remained a pleasant breeze of hope.

Ay, hopeful me, ay... nay nay nay, never leave me thus..."Wilt thou leave me thus?" Asked her. She smiled and gave another lyrical spondee for my trochaic line. My hope recovered, I found you..."Tomorrow to fresh woods and pastures anew."