The Mood Of My Mornings - Poem by Halsho Zangana
I get lazy when a dream of you is being delivered
to me, I find awakening a difficult task,
as I see you in the vision,
bringing a flood of fire,
you leave nothing more to ask.
In a place where the weak sun
lightens enough to see your face,
I find my hands with thousand fingers
insufficient to get your grace.
Before I touch you, I get bounded
by dawn dragging me back to another age.
No touch, no kiss, Alas! no more you!
and my day begins, disappointed, In an awful mood.
Comments about The Mood Of My Mornings by Halsho Zangana
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
William Ernest Henley
Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night