Tuesday, 18 January 2011

Lonely Mornings

I rise on the morning, alone
In bed, sometimes later than I'd like.
Breath struggles on the morning air,
Stretching itself in dense clouds
Before climbing into the sky.

Looking through walls, ether,
Land and sea; Seperating my love
And I, the facetious face
Bound to the tormented tomb:
The serious soul within the book,
Written in a language, you could
Never fully understand.

I sit in silence, watching time
Ebb and fade, like the moon
Sitting in the morning sky,
Praying for a glimpse
Of my love.

My love;
To which I owe my glow,
My smile and my energy;
Much more that I have,
An artillery
Bunkered away for the day,
That my love
Rises in the morning,
Next to me.

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