IN THE COOL OF A SUNDAY MORNING

In the cool of a Sunday morning I say Goodbye
A lifetime of striving now gone as the sun rises high
Limp is my body pale in new morning’s light
Fighting for me now ceased in the ghostly white
So weak is my wavering voice unable to cry

Betrayed by a single kiss my reward comes nigh
No time in this world now left to even ask why
With no strength in my voice my fingers curled up tight
In the cool of the Sunday morning

How swift does death come as here this day lie
Pale the white horse that rides on forever by
I walked so long by faith and not by sight
The darkness comes as I walk in the blackest night
I hear no sounds of angels singing for me on high
In the cool of a Sunday morning

11 thoughts on “IN THE COOL OF A SUNDAY MORNING

  1. blindzanygirl

    Don’t worry. It’s just a poem. I like to practise writing dark sometimes. Doesn’t necessarily reflect my mood, though it IS drawn from experience. I did nearly die once. This poem was inspired by having to say goidbye to something that meant a lot to me. It is fugurative maybe.. hugs

    Liked by 2 people

  2. blindzanygirl

    Aww. Bless you Punam. Thankyou for caring. I love to explore writing poetry. Have a lovely day yourself. It is the Anniversary of my father’s death in 2001 today, so maybe that kind of put me in a mood xo

    Liked by 1 person

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