sania harris

(2/10/94 / Abu Dhabi)

MY DARKEST HOUR


Walking this road down the lane
Trying to forget the memories that wane
As the foggy fogs erase my view
I walk…

Scared of getting caught
Behind the bushes, I trot
The brightness piercing thru the dark
Blinding my eyes…I walk…

My mistakes all show one by one
And the dark spirits, they smile wide
Slowly, with my aching knee,
I trip, I fall, and I stand…I walk…

A changed man today,
But the memories stay the same
I slip from the gashing rain
I fall again and I look up

My darkest hour is here
It’s darker than before the dawn
Its brightness slits thru my eye
I try to cry, but I smile instead

There is no one near, no one to hear
I curve my lips to smile a happy one
I stand up tall, I shed my fear
I open my eyes, to the darkest hour

My shadow has hid behind my true soul
I don’t bother to go searching
I don’t need it anymore
I look up again and say “take me! ”

My darkest hour, is darker still
Yet it’s brighter than the brightest day
I raise my hand to go for ever
I smile as the pocket knife slits thru my pain


DECEMBER 27,2008

Submitted: Saturday, December 27, 2008
Edited: Saturday, December 27, 2008
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (MY DARKEST HOUR by sania harris )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
Beholding me that all the pageants play,
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]