The Cycle of Days
Contributed by
ryanjoesphliedtky
on
Wednesday, 13th October 2004 @ 01:38:43 PM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
The light overhead is fading;
When the morning sun shown
It was a promising day,
Many glories to come.
Now the light is shading
O'er, the final hours flown
By, ne'er to remain,
Ne'er to venture from the home.
The early hours of the morning, lacking in mourning,
Found in me a light, so gold and bright,
Full of promise and praise yet lacking the brain,
Which would fully eat away my sanity.
Mine, who would destroy my yearning, caused my mourning,
And thus found in me lies, which were not, but by the by
I found in him an anger to destroy that in me which was sane,
And then found it to be some form of insanity.
The noon hours came too early, and passed fairly
Quickly, with no chance for change, only myself to blame!
Thus the middle of the day was too young in the hours of fame;
To take away the early, and leave what's left, so clearly
Defines my life. Fame too soon, and too soon passing, lame
Is the word that eats at my soul, lame, that's what I am, lame!
The sunset approaches. The hours draw to an end.
The work of the day, I fear, is not yet finished.
I retire to my bed, whereupon I rest my head,
And propose to the one person who has not abandoned me, my friend,
That with the setting of the star of life comes a reminder, the moon, that the day is not finished.
Now, lay me down and feed me well to the flowers that are not dead.
Copyright ©
ryanjoesphliedtky
... [
2004-10-13 13:38:43]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
Advertisments:
|
|
Menu
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
