old gems: part 3 Hope

I'm floating on a zeppelin filled with the dreams of children, hoping for a chance to be able to cope with the acid bombs of despair drooping out of the bulbs of their tears to never quite know what keeps me alive. hope is a fountain made by gods, once men but now eternal powers giving us more then we can ask. Hope is but a dream that wont except death, ever building up like soldiers at a war against despair. we are like drops of rain falling from the eyes of some immortal being, becoming the tiny beads upon a rose, hoping for one last chance to bloom. The ray of sunshine breaks through the shadows like life coming into a lost soul, giving it one last shot in this world. Cries of a child, finally heard by deaf ears. the sight of a young daughters face, seen for the first time by a blind fathers eyes, filled with brand new life. Maybe if heaven granted me a set of wings, for just one day, i could fly to come and save you. Only after i save myself of course. But that one doesn't look so great right now.