Midnight Sunrise

You're my sunrise in the midnight sky.
The wasted nights followed by
those over-done mornings
trying to skip over the night light.
You're one to call on
when I'm drowning under water
in my own sympathies.

You're only wondering how
one could be obtaining such information
through these obscure findings.
But, I tell you, it's due to those wasted nights,
and the way you're my midnight sky,
my sunrise, my morning light.
Waking me up, putting me out,
pulling me down from the misted skylines.

You're the blues, singing me to sleep,
the reds helping me bleed
after that relapsing evening.
You're the wasted nights,
my last night.
Fought me down,
put me out of my own miseries,
praying I won't be able to speak
come morning;
withholding information from the world
about how one fellow friend is missing.

"The sun isn't rising, help me up, please."
Predict me to be gone after this last thought memory.
I want you to be the last sunrise I see,
and to carry over the last one I'll ever know
as the sight I saw last evening with you.
God can't even bring me back to you,
'cause he can't help but rain/reign
over the sadness of losing a love so genuine.
Kiss me softly, tear down the sky,
bring me pain, the sunrise will share its reds
and punish me for turning you away.
Pretty skyline, you'll rise on funeral days
of miseries' mind and it's lacking love.<Photo 1>

Reviews

[C.J.]

wow very nice i like this poem and i think it was greatly thott out.