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.
-
Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: August 10th, 2026 03:28
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 61
- Users favorite of this poem: arqios, Tristan Robert Lange, ๐ฌ๐ฑ๐ช๐ท๐ฎ๐ต
Offline)
Comments6
This seems a reflective poem on thoughts and a sense of peace is left at the end. Well done
Many thanks my friend, much appreciated read
You are most welcome Norman
Tremendous read. A Fave. ๐คฉ๐๏ธ๐
most kind my friend, thanking you much appreciated
As always, most welcome, dear friend. ๐๏ธ๐
In my Father's house are many mansions...
thanks for read much appreciated
Thereโs a lovely progression here, Norman...the midnight solitude begins almost haunted by loneliness and invisible wounds, but gradually opens into something gentler and more contemplative. Sometimes those lonely roads lead us somewhere inside ourselves we needed to visit. Much enjoyed, my friend! ๐น๐ค๐๐ฏ๏ธ๐ฆโโฌ
thanking you as always much appreciated friend
Good write N.
The midnight hour. When bus turns up?! lol.
still hasnt lol
Well done on this piece of poetry
thanking you for read, always much appreciated
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.