Wednesday, 25 March 2015

Come What May

Whispers, remnants
slowly dying
Another day
full of long sighing
In wakefulness
we're far from our best
But even in sleep
we find no rest

Tortured soul
eternally crying
Singing winds
forever lying
A voice, it says
how we are blessed
Though we fear
it does nothing but jest

We drift away
emptiness on all sides
Impossible to find
some place to hide
From the black of night
that lives in day
That ensures we can never
find our way

The water we drown in
is too wide
All help and hope
has slowly died
Yet still we look for
one person to say
That they’ll always be there
come what may.

© 25/03/2015.

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