In the quiet of the night, when stars softly gleam,
Whispers of hope thread through the dream.
Each twinkle a promise, a beacon of light,
Guiding lost souls through the dark of night.

The moon smiles gently, casting a silver glow,
On hearts that wander, on those who know.
That even in shadows, a spark can ignite,
Turning despair into pure, radiant light.

With every dawn that breaks, a new chance to find,
The courage and strength within the mind.
For hope is a river, flowing ever so deep,
Nourishing the dreams we hold and keep.

So, let your heart soar, let your spirit fly,
Embrace the whispers that the stars supply.
For in the tapestry of the vast midnight sky,
Hope is the thread that will never die.