When the midnight
Hour calls
Without fanfare
Empty halls
A passageway
To lead
To lonesome roads
And noisy heels.
Quiet streets
Passing cars
Falling thoughts
Invisible scars
Inner moments
They become
Children lost
Counting cost.
A familiar road
Footsteps to lead
Silence still
Loneliness to breathe
Upon the cold air
Inner dreams
Somewhere beside
A peaceful stream.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: August 10th, 2026 03:28
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
Offline)
Comments1
This seems a reflective poem on thoughts and a sense of peace is left at the end. Well done
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