Hope in the Newling Day

Sawing through the bonds

That bind me tightly,

Seeking for the twine

That ties the rest;

One day this portly rope

Will fray at its seams.


Pitching through the dreams

That taunt me nightly,

Sifting through the scenes

That scare my rest;

Ere long I will not grope

For night shall pass and clear.


Burning through the drear

That drapes me tightly,

Searing through the cloths

That choke my rest;

A fiery flame of hope

Shall blaze through the shrouds.



Ploughing through the clouds

That hide the sightly,

Striking off the moon

That haunts my rest;

Shafts beam a darkling slope:

A newling day has dawned.

The End

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