My Poetry

Please respect that this poetry is my own work and therefore copyright rules apply.

 

Night

Day withers into leaden dusk and all the lonely shadows thus

Abound, drained of their rose and greenery.

Night blooms with spectres perse and all the wraiths that light

Abhor, delighting in the gloom.

Long is the darkened void that spreads it wings as if to cloy and

Strangle, iced fingers at our throats.

Still becomes the wind that has shaken sadness from the trees and turned

Them all to cinder by the winding path.

So do we long for the bright thread of dawn that teases all the dread

Murk, into happy bird song.

But night sustains his hold of blackened, smudgy pitch that stains

The wide sky overhead, but for a star of molten gold.

 

 

 

 

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