It's dawn again, I heard you say
Your tired voice spoke volumes with it's tone
I think you meant the world is black
When you called the moon a worthless stone
I know the light has left our day
I know the night has slowly touched our eyes
But all the seasons ever say
'paint quick, paint quick, this scene, before we die'
And I have painted on so many nights
Your face, your smile, at least what's left of late
Upon the ceiling's faint white tile
With a sky and a moon and a barren slate
But now I cannot stop the dawn
New days will come; I have no say in this
The sun will rise with another look
While the moons all die with a frozen kiss
Very poignant. Time is elusive, but can be captured by words that echo on forever in the landscapes of the mind. Excellent write, Ben. Warm regards, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ben...You have a magical way with words! Superb poem! ! Hugs, Dee