The hardest of all times
Come when the night is darkest,
Imitation of the void,
Gravity of limbo,
Where feet fly free
But fail to find steady ground.
Misery attaches to
Emotions once shiny
Only to surprisingly
Turn to rust or dust.
Grieving has no clock
But just like night it does have
An inevitable ending
A river whose departure
Opens to a ocean,
Possibilities from
A pillow of painful tears,
Awakening rising stars
Transforming defeat into
The narrative of a local hero.
A champion triumphs
From overcoming defeat
Having built winning
From lessons of loss
The student embraces
Learning before dawn
Applying oneself
As daring meets fortune
Faith applies focus
To the brightest of all horizons!
Copyright © 2022 Charles Edward York
No part of this poem may be used or reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any way or form or by any means electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise without the written permission of the author.*
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Author:
Charles Edward York (
Offline) - Published: April 4th, 2022 01:06
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
- Users favorite of this poem: jarcher54
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Comments2
Happy birthday CEY!
A very sobering and interesting description of a common experience. You are good at that. I appreciate the catalog of impressions... imitation of the void, gravity of limbo. Thanks for posting this. It was a deep if short reverie.
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