Weary eyes
Lifted gently
To face a day
The hours sentry
Its centre point
Left in dream
Lifes twisting turns
Hides fears unseen.
As angels passed
Within that sleep
Silent oaths
To promise keep
And now the fate
Of this new day
Astride the moments
Footsteps to stray.
We bury our dead
Or burn the flesh
The soul lives on
Or so its said
Dreading still
That he may weep
The cortege
Upon the street.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: August 18th, 2026 02:39
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
Offline)
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