The Grief Morning Gives

The anguish, revealed by many,
Knows not of pleasures taken,
As should be surprising.
Yet, your eagerness resolves me.
I was blinded by youth,
Blinded by the miseries of war,
Ongoing battles in our hearts.

One morning, left the farewells open,
By a bird, left to rot.

We knew not of the weeping, angels gave,
To soldiers, whose simple hearts are saved.
As we are one, by the fire,
Sent, by currents of desire.

I wished, for a lonely kiss,
That, only tears might long to miss.

Bereaved, by the senseless grief,
Of nighttime love.
I was turned to stone,
By your inspiring flames.
I laid flat, upon the earth,
For the world to see us part.

We knew, of the world’s death,
Knew of the battles fought.
But, our pain flew forth,
As a tempest, might curl its winds.

I whispered to your ear,
One final word:

“Dear, with your hopelessness.
That I fell down to worship,
Would you allow me the breath,
To see the end of passion?”

Your beauty, with all its glory,
Is set upon the sun’s halo.
Your beauty, with all its needing,
Gave me the time to resolve.

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