The past falls heavy; hiding light
While she stumbles on through the night
Every step and breath with tears drawn
Still she dreams of the gentle dawn
The path is one she did not choose
Rugged; without hope of rescue
Yet something propels her on
As she dreams of the gentle dawn
Until the light grows bright and new
And she can bid her fears adieu
Smiling now that her woes are gone
At least she sees the gentle dawn
Lovely. I like the use of light and dark, night and dawn.
ReplyDeleteGentle and graceful response to the prompt.
ReplyDeleteThose last lines tie this together like a net ensnaring this poem. It is hypnotic, drawing me in!
ReplyDeleteLovely rhyme pattern...enjoyed this...
ReplyDeleteVery well written. A delightful read!
ReplyDeleteI like that the path could be rugged, either literally or figuratively. Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteSo Stoic
ReplyDeleteVery nice flow to your words.
ReplyDelete