The demise of Hope

I've often wondered.... we judge people by their appearances, and once we get to know them, it doesn't seem to matter so much anymore. Sometimes appearances even get altered in your mind's eye ...If there's some character trait or quality you really like about them, they start to look better too... which got me thinking in reverse. If these qualities or traits took a human form, what would they look like? Would Anger be a short, pudgy man with a bulbous red nose? Would Jealousy be a reed thin vamp? and what about Hope? what would she look like (yes, it's a she...)? We would love her just because she would make the world seem a better place. And then, one day, say she died....What would happen then?

Amber mist, it shrouded her frame
Her gentle frame that spun and twirled
And not a plea that the Fates beseeched
could soothe the storm her soul had stirred
Lustrous locks she had, untamed
A song they sang, so wild, so free
Upon her brow, the beaded sweat
did Venus collect, to nourish a stream
Her wide set eyes did dream of things,
of places man could not yet see
And in their grey, reclusive depths,
Some travellers sought eternity
Her fingers, dainty, dexterous, played
A song to bring the living joy
And to the dead, it brought regret,
that life-song had but passed them by
Not for her the robes of old,
Linen sheer and cotton soft,
but satin rich and woven lace
Her garb was fashioned thereof
Rain-swept woods and autumn tune-
the music of her laughter sweet
A thousand notes from winter-chimes
Free verse muted in repeat
Wisemen wept and scoundrels sang
of glory yet to be restored
And when her footsteps laid to ground
They'd bought what they could not afford
And thence it passed a summer spell
Where on a scented mountain side
They came in droves, in black veiled clothes
To mourn the passing of the tide
For never had men been bound to cry
Or lament in such a broken voice
As with her died their secret dreams
Frozen still in blocks of ice
Roses black with petals wet
Were kept to guard her grave at night
And none forgot the whispering wind
That said...
'Tonight was the night that Hope - she died.'