Iris Lynn

A Hymn of Dawn on Broken Wings

Beneath the vault of mourning stone,

Where silence sleeps and light has flown,

A single flame defies the tomb

A whisper rising through the gloom.

 

It does not roar, it does not plead,

But glows where even angels bleed.

Hope wears a shroud, yet still it sings

A hymn of dawn on broken wings.