Saturday, 8 December 2012

I knew a sad boy

I knew a boy who in life's happy hours mourn, when flowers blossom and youth with energy grows, He cannot yet see all of that which beauty disclose, for deep in his soul a gloom inscribed. In mournful groans he enters his stage, a broken smile he scarsely drew, speaking nothing but woes and toils, grief and sorrow was his theme for all. But once he mused on a happier song, his eyes sparkled brighter than Sun, of a love no longer to be sung, ending his age under the clouds of grey.


No comments:

Post a Comment

The tears will not rise

The tears will not rise, not tonight. The joy will outlast the thickened dismissal of my confession. The misgiving of ...