Array ( [sid] => 108845 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Perspective [time] => 2005-11-01 07:40:34 [hometext] => Loneliness….. the reality of being alone; not just physically, but in action and in spirit. Does it really have to be so horrible? It's all perspective. [bodytext] =>
IN THE MORNING LIGHT
A COLD, STILL ENVELOPE
NO OTHER IN SIGHT
ISOLATE, REMOTE

THE MORNING SUN ARISES
AND WITH IT, NOT MY HEART
LIFE HOLDS NO MORE SURPRISES
COLD AND LONELY FROM THE START

I AWAKE ALONE
NO OTHER IN MY BED
MY HEART IS AS STONE
COLD AND HEAVY AS LEAD

THE MORNING LIGHT, IT MOCKS
ITS BEGINNING, BUT A LIE
THE TRUTH NO LONGER SHOCKS
WE EXIST AND THEN WE DIE


In the morning light
A cold, still envelope
No other in sight
Isolate, remote

In the morning light,
Within the rays I see,
Drifting dust so bright,
Dust and light, dance for me

Stillness that surrounds
A crisp chill it does enhance
Serene, lacking sounds
Fleeting, ethereal, most delicate a dance

A moment of repose
Respite for the soul
For of the coming morrows,
Hope, to us they extol
[comments] => 1 [counter] => 165 [topic] => 21 [informant] => ToriVeigh [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Perspective


Perspective
Date: Tuesday, 1st November 2005 @ 07:40:34 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: ToriVeigh

IN THE MORNING LIGHT
A COLD, STILL ENVELOPE
NO OTHER IN SIGHT
ISOLATE, REMOTE

THE MORNING SUN ARISES
AND WITH IT, NOT MY HEART
LIFE HOLDS NO MORE SURPRISES
COLD AND LONELY FROM THE START

I AWAKE ALONE
NO OTHER IN MY BED
MY HEART IS AS STONE
COLD AND HEAVY AS LEAD

THE MORNING LIGHT, IT MOCKS
ITS BEGINNING, BUT A LIE
THE TRUTH NO LONGER SHOCKS
WE EXIST AND THEN WE DIE


In the morning light
A cold, still envelope
No other in sight
Isolate, remote

In the morning light,
Within the rays I see,
Drifting dust so bright,
Dust and light, dance for me

Stillness that surrounds
A crisp chill it does enhance
Serene, lacking sounds
Fleeting, ethereal, most delicate a dance

A moment of repose
Respite for the soul
For of the coming morrows,
Hope, to us they extol


This poem is Copyright © ToriVeigh


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