The Feathered Mind [SSC8 Poetry Challenge]

Hope is the thing with feathers, That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all. Through the chilling, thrilling gale, where the frozen shadows pale, It will sail without a trail, a spark against the rain. Through the deepest, darkest night, in a blind and soaring flight, It will find the morning light, and break the heavy chain. (Break the heavy chain) A feathered crown, it will not drown, a king without a throne! A flying seed, it plants the weed in gardens overgrown. It lifts the weight of cruelest fate, and sings a golden tone! (Sings a golden tone) And sweetest in the Gale is heard, And sore must be the storm, That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm. Past the bitter, biting frost, where the desperate are tossed, And the weary wander lost, it whispers through the trees. In the silence of the cold, an unyielding story told, With a spirit brave and bold, it carries on the breeze. (Carries on the breeze) A feathered crown, it will not drown, a king without a throne! A flying seed, it plants the weed in gardens overgrown. It lifts the weight of cruelest fate, and sings a golden tone! (Sings a golden tone) I have heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest Sea, Yet, never, in Extremity, It asked a crumb of me. It simply flew the boundless blue, and set my spirit free. (Set my spirit free) A feathered crown, it will not drown, a king without a throne! A flying seed, it plants the weed in gardens overgrown. It lifts the weight of cruelest fate, and sings a golden tone! (Sings a golden tone) Hope is the thing with feathers... It never stops at all... (Never stops at all)