There was a question on the lips of morning,

but night had closed its ears so forcefully,

that silence was the saviour of the dawning,

and truth had shut its eyes to what had been.

It seemed as if the words had been full broken,

and shovelled into parts of mind long hid,

so nothing could be offered up or spoken,

and honesty was mangled on day’s grid.

That moment when reality was so revealed,

within the darkness, sourced in hope’s desire,

was but a fleeting shadow of old feeling,

which could not last within dawn’s burning fire.


About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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