Black

Black is the evening as I try to understand
why love is left lonely, discarded at sea,
so tired as it struggles to reach the land,
drowning in sorrow inside of me.

And sadder still is the dreary breaking of morn
that has no sunlight to cheer the sky.
The gray clouds linger, drifting hence forlorn,
a semblance of love, how it is bound to die.

And more than desolate, I wake and rise,
leaving my heart, which is sleeping still,
upon the bed that has drowned in the cries
that creep up and across the window sill.

The tears, they fall to the hapless ground;
and I walk upon the tears once again.
My tired eyes see that the flowers around
have all withered beneath the salt and pain.

Sad love weeps behind the veil of night;
and the whole thing seems pointless, so vain.
What use the dreams, the desires and delight,
that struggle as though they can never be again?

How shall I stand it, these sad thoughts repeat?
How can I stand where the strongest trees bend?
It is always a blessing that dies bittersweet,
so savage and cruel, it becomes in the end.

How shall I linger in the memories of your face,
in the dreams I shall never know?
I shall whither, a flower, outside your embrace,
the spark to dwindle, the tears to flow.

What is the point? There is nothing to it
if neither you nor I
dare to taste of the passion we lit,
if we suffer our hearts to die.

What point indeed is there if you run
against the wind and all you know and see,
if you deny it, deny me, deny the sun,
if you pretend that we never can be?

Black is the morning which finds me forlorn.
There is no promise in the heavens above.
Pale and contemptuous is the chilly morn
that has broken the wings of the dove.

Reviews

[Twilight]

In this poem, morning is "sadder" without love. The clouds are temporary, like love can be.

"The gray clouds linger", suggests that there is more sadness ahead.

This eloquent poem speaks of a broken heart and the misery of loneliness.

Sleep has helped to silence the protagonist's yearning for love. However, this is only a temporary respite (see verse three).

Another good write, Linda.

[bluessadmood]

What lovely write
you have reached far beyond frontiers and crossed
you have outran every limit,every beauty you ever shown
this is so wonderful,how dreamy ,how sad
you took me high up to sky black clouds to a sun that never shown
she so sad and crying thought,the morn deserves no sun...
so tired as it struggles to reach the land,
drowning in sorrow inside of me.
And sadder still is the dreary breaking of morn
that has no sunlight to cheer the sky.
The gray clouds linger, drifting hence forlorn,
a semblance of love, how it is bound to die.

and I walk upon the tears once again.
My tired eyes see that the flowers around
have all withered beneath the salt and pain.

How shall I linger in the memories of your face,
in the dreams I shall never know?
I shall whither, a flower, outside your embrace,
the spark to dwindle, the tears to flow.
Black is the morning which finds me forlorn.
There is no promise in the heavens above.
Pale and contemptuous is the chilly morn
that has broken the wings of the dove.
oh how sweet everything,what wonders
i just love to hear those words sink and drown in them so nice they are
so sweet ,how wonderful ,everything so perfect here,and i love it