A dream forlorn

Just some personal thoughts ...

It's a dream, forlorn.

At the crack of dawn-
Between the sea and the beautiful sky
On the brink of horizon,
With the promise of sunrise…
A hope is born.

The divine hand –
A dancing breeze, some soaring waves
Whispers of land to the sails…
A frail boat lingers on.

Thus, stroke after stroke,
On the canvas of hope…
A picture is drawn.

Faith is thy name,
Oh the light in my flame.
My dream you adorn.

With the storms, will you haggle?
From my side, will you battle?
For the question hereon -
“Will she, wont she
Enkindle her dream of aeon?"

It's a dream, forlorn.