Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune -- without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

~Emily Dickinson

This is a visualization of what I personally feel hope is and a portrayal of the pollution in all places, China in particular. It should be noted that the signs and advertisements depicted all advertise things related to "beauty" and "happiness" to contrast with what the polluted world is truly like.

Hope is bright and beautiful, but it is small. No more than a speck, a dash of beauty against an oppressive monotone...and still its voice will be heard. Hope is progress. Hope is the singing bird.

Hope will lead us on.