XLVI (Forty Six)

5 2 0
                                    


Distant dawn drifting up,
Shining sun smiles and hop.
Great day for thee,
Not for who hold a memory.

The sky seems to break,
As I never tried to speak.
Those past that I love,
Returned like those dove.

But now what will I do?
Thy present that I adore too.
Filling my flaws flawlessly,
Caring myself dreamily.

Past that I was yearning
Or present that I was aiming?
This tragedy will end in dusk,
Coz they both ask in brusque.

Who?

Mr. SorrowrhymeWhere stories live. Discover now