When the dawn is just near breaking, But the darkness still consumes, Light’s memory is fading, As the midnight takes its due. There’s a tremor – in the clouds, It could be morning’s light. But it’s just a windy shroud, And so continues night. If I could, Escape this pain, My feet would take up flight. But I must, Wait for day, To gather up my might.
Discussion about this post
No posts