by David Asamoah

The youngest of the last remaining three,
Junior to Faith that moves the sun and stars
And second ranked to Love that endures scars
So that others may know its riches free
But if not for Hope’s love which heart would see
Beyond the bleak heavens which Faith moved so?
If not with Hope how much would small love grow
When faced with apathy to great degree?
Where Faith is silenced, punished on each sound
Bold Hope outspoken murmurs in the chest
And when Love’s arms grow weak and hit the ground
Hope carries on (for even Love must rest) 
And finding in life’s nights a mellow ‘noon, 
Hope thrives with Love and Faith ever triune.