my Hope

I stared at my big piles of paper on my room floor. Three boxes of my stuffs are also on the corner. Glasses on tables. Wind banged my glass window, oh please bang harder so that i know i am still alive and awake.

After Subh prayer, i pondered, is hope always fulfilled by Him? Is it similar to faith or they exist as one thing? Can i count my tear drops one by one so that i know every each of it counted as hope?

Can i rise back after a tragic fall? can i be the same again after i ve been through?
Do i deserve to be appreciated after all that happened to me?

All these questions have been on my mind since then. A long time ago.

As shown in the picture above, could my hope grow again? In a deserted land with no water no man?