how are death and life so closeley related?
how can joy and suffering be so closey intwinded?
why does beauty and brokeness come so gently hand in hand?

i am hopeful, becuase others are hopefull,
yet i wish that bad things would not happen to otherwise good people.
they say hope is often found on the horizion with each sunruse and sunset...
oh, if i could only grab that beauty and hope, and spread it around,
so that it could catch on like a angry fire...
we live in a world full of cynics, and sometimes i'm one.