When Black Is the Colour Du Jour
There’s a time in all men’s lives
A time when the soul
Can do no more
…Than cry…
When scars are graven
In script broadly writ
On the heart and deep…
within the eye
When the sky is barren
Of Sunlight and Angels
The days become
Grey and dust dry
The very spirit is smothered
By blanket of despair
Exposed and uncovered
Like an ill hidden lie
Yet…In the season’s of time
There returns reason and rhyme
The darkness retreats
…Church bells chime…
The once hard heart softens
The spirit revives
Both sunlight and Angels
Shine down on our lives
And the soul?…It returns
From that black hole
Where it hides
A bit tattered and torn
More weathered and worn
…Yet It survives…
It survives…It survives!
Copyright © David O'Haolin Whalen | Year Posted 2015
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