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Best Night Poems

Below are the all-time best Night poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of night poems written by PoetrySoup members

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See also: Best Famous Poems

Details | Night Poem | |

Black Diamond Night

Black Diamond Night (a coal miner’s cemetery) 

Where the ebony, we call “NIGHT”,
Old black rocks sit under the twilight.
Diamond shape eyes unclear and lonely, 
Sinister through hostile spirits only,

I stumble across these stones without a bone.
A solitary confinement alone,
From a barren zone the light transcend.
Only in time, our minds will mend.

Endless valleys and limitless stones.
These bones- these bones they sit alone.
The abyss, of rotten cavities with no fill,
A system no power can unwell the drill
The blood that passed over without a spill.
Peaks collapse into a spellbinding chill.
They are trapped! They are trapped!
Another diamond in the rough. 
Is what they left.

Obsessed with the dead without a death. 
A death that impatiently awaited their last breath.
Gushing, into the gems of dead chemistry,
Diamonds holding its own intensity,
These lonely graves, on top of sycamore hill.
Coal mining hearts that will never heal.
If only shiny eyes could see?
These lonely bones inside of me!
Moving in every direction possible
Flowing in every direction noticeable.
Sockets without eyes.
Stones hiding under the cobalt skies.
The mad sparkles, the madness dies.
Throughout this mess, we held in the blasphemous.
Intervening lots of gems so miraculous.
  
Into a stone of self-religion,
A black night filled of legions.
Acknowledging the soul's capacity of free.
Near the frail bones that sit alone,
Alone they sit in a morbid home.
Through a path unclear and all alone,
Troubled by the visions of my own stone.
Where the night takes place in the dark. 
The ebony rides under the diamond bark.
Along with the coal miners who never got to see the;
“Diamonds of another day!”

:) my own personal favorite poem

Details | Night Poem | |

Midnight Secret

*Midnight Secrets*   

In the dark, I came alive 
~tonight
I found my way 
~into the light

Camouflage in lace, my skin glisten, 
Towards the wind, I listen! 
Skin of envy and gold, 
My limbs suddenly unfold, 
Gracefully I follow the air,
I found myself without a care, 
Every moment, every feeling felt erotically insane, 
Seductively, the night whispers my name, 
A freedom flight 
~into the night.
 
My breast, not of a little girl 
Beyond the hazels, into another world 
My life until this point had been a riddle 
My fingers slither, a play without a fiddle 

Circles with motion, 
Vibrations and self-soothing lotion, 
I touch my self gently, 
Thinking of you relentlessly,
Looking around, 
The night echoes a whimpering sound, 
I want to see, and embrace the secrets inside me,
I squeeze the damp enigma charcoal sheets-
Moaning and moaning, repeatedly. 
Tucking my silk pillows, groping my knees,
I rub my lids slowly, satisfactorily complete, 
Falling back into the realm of counting sheep. 
~Tonight 

by;)

Details | Night Poem | |

Where The Sycamore Grew

The house seemed smaller, now seen with older eyes...
The street seemed narrower, the trees taller..
Where once were open fields across the road
New construction had bloomed
The small fruit orchard had disappeared

But somehow we knew it would still be there....
Strangely different, ...yet much the same

There was an unfamiliar young child's tricycle
On the flagstone path that we laid...
In front of this little house that lies
Beyond the curve, where the old sycamore grew...

Suddenly, thirty years faded into that autumn day
And quickly had become a springtime of our lives..... 
...of first Christmas trees,..of first anniversaries...
            ...a place where I cried night after night when mother died...
                       ...and spent long, starry nights holding newborn babes....
Yes....it is all still there, in the little yellow house

Funny, but I'm glad they kept the yellow...
It has the same white shutters...
The little yellow house, with a flagstone pathway that we laid
That sits beyond the curve, where the old sycamore grew...


                                         ++++++++++++++++++


Details | Night Poem | |

This Night

I’m driftwood, and I’m floating out to sea as sun descends upon my home - the grove of trees whose fragrance still remains with me. And likewise, heaven’s work of art, a mauve surrounding me, now permeates my soul. Warm water, in the twilight growing cold, is rocking me. Beneath dark blue, a shoal moves swiftly; overhead there will unfold the myriad of stars in semblance of a giant carousel in dimming sky. Those stars that glitter for the grove I love will glitter too for me, where here I lie alone, enraptured. . . and I think I might drift evermore, enveloped by this night. Written by Andrea Dietrich and entered in the Put Your Best Rhyme Forward!!!!!Contest of Just That Archaic Poet

Details | Night Poem | |

WHEN I STOP AND PRAY

When the storm clouds boil around me, 
And the lightning splits the sky--. 
When the howling wind assails me,
And life's sea is rolling high--
When my heart is filled with terror,
And my fears, I can't allay--
Then I find sweet peace and comfort, 
When I simply stop and pray.

When the things of life confound me,
And my faith is ebbing low--
When my trusted friends betray me,
And my heart is aching so--
When the night seems black and endless,
And I long for light of day--
Then I find a silver dawning,
When I simply stop and pray.

There are things beyond the heavens
I can't begin to understand,
But I know that God is living,
And I know He holds my hand.
Yes, I know He watches o'er me
All the night and all the day--
And He's always there to hear me
When I simply stop and pray.

Details | Night Poem | |

Star-Crossed (For Love of Day, For Love of Night)

(this is a form called Swap Quatrain, where first
line's phrases swap in the last line of each stanza)

In shadows’ veils, at end of night,
sweet Moon removes her modest light
and softly, yet again, exhales -
at end of night, in shadows’ veils.

As she departs, her love’s released
to climb the stairway to the east.
They cannot meet to share their hearts.
Her love’s released as she departs.

She watches him while hid from view,
the way he kisses morning’s dew,
and sees gold rays spill from his rim.
While hid from view, she watches him.

Sad Moon, alone for centuries,
with awe has watched Sun leave, cerise.
while she, afar. . . how cold she’s grown! 
For centuries, sad moon alone.

She takes his place so he may rest.
And though forlorn, she’s always dressed
in lace, for Luna has great grace.
So he may rest, she takes his place.

For love of night, for love of day,
she can’t implore him that he sway
from course.  To be apart’s their plight.
For love of day, for love of night.


For Dr. Ram Mehta's Contest: Luna, the goddess of moon

Details | Night Poem | |

Sheol

Dark Knight-tress 

Underneath 
This gown I feel nothing
Silk less feelings
The odor of intimate apparel lessens 
Vanity fare from any sun
Warrior of beauty
Where have you gone?
A fortress of gloom
Not even death wants in
Black nail tips
Brownish plum lips

I close my eyes 
I see them all
The Shadows
Climbing over my soul
The darken deepens 
The stars dim my view
Irremovable makeup
Land becomes an enemy
I become
The Dark Knight-tress
Scolding my next victim

~S~

Details | Night Poem | |

Night Owl

Sitting by her open window,
Was a girl deep in thought,
Lost within a book of Poe,
A perfect poem she sought.

With a curious eye,
He watches her pen,
For she gives it a try,
Every now and then.

He will visit her forevermore,
In silent hours of midnight,
Casting his shadow on her floor,
Within the full moonlight.

Mysterious, nocturnal bird,
Calling out to darkened land,
Speaking such wise word,
Which I cannot understand.

I am lonely, I must confess,
It's just you, me and the moon,
You are much like me, I guess,
So, please sing me another tune.

A messenger of death,
Wailing songs of a banshee,
Has my grim reaper cometh,
Was this warning meant for me?

My soul was projected,
In the shadow of a fowl,
A raven I had expected,
Not the silhouette of an owl!


Details | Night Poem | |

That Night We Kissed

That night we kissed, my heart became a butterfly.
It sprouted wings and danced across the velvet sky,
then leapt across the multitude of stars there strewn
along its happy way to touch the crescent moon.
You held me close, but did you know my heart could fly?

And in its pounding, did you hear it testify
that you, and you alone, could ever satisfy
the woman that emerged from her secure cocoon
that night we kissed?

It onward soared with constellations yet to try. . .
my yearning heart, once captive, was no longer shy.
How can hearts set free be ever more immune
to sweet caresses in a night that all too soon
must have an end? I couldn't bear to say goodbye
that night we kissed.


For Joe Flach's Contest "First Time"
and now a very old oldie for PD's 
the May the best descriptive poem win~~~ ((old poems only))Poetry Contest

Details | Night Poem | |

Teddy Bear-

My sweet little Teddy Bear...
Mommy gave 'YOU' to me.
Now I never sleep alone at night.
The comfort you gave, when God's sunny eyes ran out of light.

You are my sweet little teddy bear... 
You kept me company throughout the years.
I hugged you, when my eyes were full of tears.
Loving you, squeezing you. 
We both express many joyful dance of cheers.
Together we sang lullabies, without you singing one single word.
We drank from the same teacup, whispered about the pretty birds.
Now listen, as I mumble extra words into your ear.
My sweet Teddy Bear, you are always here.

We snuggled every night staring at the star frame window.
"You held my hand every-time I was lost in my own imaginary limbo.

My sweet little Teddy Bear...
I'm 11 now, and my mother loves me dearly.
Sadly she felt it's time to find me a daddy.
Little does she knows, my daddy visits every night in my dreams.

Shhhhhh!!!
Now her boyfriend visits my room and tells me not to scream.
Little Teddy bear, I never showed you fear before I fell asleep.
Little Teddy bear, tonight I do not want to count sheep. 
Teddy bear, now I hold you closer, and tighter than before.
Little Teddy Bear let me cover your ears, from the screeching door.
Little Teddy Bear, he said he will hurt mommy If I tell anyone.
Little Teddy Bear, I know you see and hear everything!!!

by; pd
You're A Little Kid Again (contest)
The View of an 11 year old

Details | Night Poem | |

Shadows

I’m leaning out my window gazing at a silhouette against the full yellow moon. “Come to Never-never Land,” calls a voice from my childhood. I reach out to touch the dream - but am left holding shadows. Written by Andrea Dietrich on Nov, 9, 2014/ Theme: Silhouette of Night for the SILHOUETTE OF A HEPTAGONET Contest of nette onclaud

Details | Night Poem | |

Night-Blooming Jasmine

Night-Blooming Jasmine
expert seducer with soft silky lips, silver blue moon sweetly kisses a slumbering beauty awakening desire; greeting her lover, Night-Blooming Jasmine unfolds perfumed petals

Details | Night Poem | |

A Night At The O2 Bar With Maurice

Came in there slowly, gasping for air
Caught up by all our misery and despair
Maurice in the front, checking all things out
A breath of fresh air, is what he does scout

I come in shortly after, looking for a seat
Found one in the corner, dim lit and discrete
Maurice orders up, two huffs of pure gold
Supposed to stop us, from feeling too old 

A couple lovely ladies giving us the eye
Before I even knew it Maurice had said goodbye
He had left with a lady, the one with eyes of green 
Off to turn this princess into his personal queen

I was left alone, like many other times in my life
Feeling sad and lonely thinking about all my strife
Up walks this beauty and asks me for a dance
I couldn't get much sadder so I took a chance

She was a perfect angel and we held each other tight
Dancing and talking all throughout this great night
The bar was to close, so I took her by the hand
Walking under the moonlight, barefoot in the sand

We come upon a bon fire and two naked silhouettes 
Maurice and his lovely princess having no regrets
We lay down by the fire and gaze up in the sky
Dream about tomorrows, letting nothing pass us by








Details | Night Poem | |

Moonlight Madness

MOONLIGHT MADNESS

The moon falls out like a secret above the frisky clouds
Daylight and night the stars come in crowds
Like a glistening diamond, I can't stop staring
Mixed-up in that moment that has no time sharing

Holding onto the tip of the tree limbs like a puppeteer
I can hear the words the moon whispers into my ear

TONIGHT! 
I will illuminate into a world only I know of
My very own little secret sparkling island getaway
A world where beauty hides the beast
I'll be the only exile under a sunless night feast

TONIGHT! 
I'm going to pass on all my secrets away---
As I have on my dreaming moonlit gear
Comfort upon this mundane wonder, astronomical sphere. 

TONIGHT!
I looked one last time at the mooned night
I will close my eyes, and find myself in a box kite flight.

TONIGHT! 
I will lay myself down to sleep, 
Not allowing my imagination to rinse off with wild sheep
Like a Nightingale, I rather sit and serenade myself to sleep
With the refreshing thought, the moon is like the pillow I keep

In this mad, mad world!
The moon seems to be the only object that holds it's sanity
Arousing me with it's inner peace and spirituality  

Details | Night Poem | |

Stargazer

Under 65 degree starry, onyx blanket
Containment of quarter moon identity

A whimsically soothing song exuded
In muffled taps & Prohibition era lyric

In the distance,
Snow-capped mountains reflecting lunar clarity
Off its tips of freedom

As we lay on recycled steel hood,
Made in 1950s USA, when it mattered,
Her silhouetted fingertips released from my right arm
While insistently looking towards stratosphere’s vocal chord

“Can’t it be like this forever?
Oh, how I want to just make love to the stars.
Become one with Orion while riding
On Sagittarius’s arrow”

“What about our stars?”, he softly questioned.

“I’d like to be your never-ending shooting star.
To ride on blue moon’s comet, by your side”

Cricket whispers manhandled his romantic clef
Mother Nature’s afterglow, upon her ears, fallen deaf

Inherent waxy build-up from illicit tongue,
She pat his shoulders like a dog
Being taught his first lesson

Her eyes, still sky high.

“Sigh, I like how you think.
You’re such a nice friend.
You’re going to make a woman so happy one day.
I hope to meet a guy just like you.”

As her eyes sighed with a powerful lack of substance
Into the arms of Leo,
A slammed car door supplants the reverberation of the car’s V8 engine.

He confidently turns back the hands of time.

Reversal gears become his new tune

“If you get lost going home, follow the stars.”

As he pulls away with majestic, amplified lyrics
Of Whitesnake’s “Here I go Again”

Going down the only road he’s ever known

While she stands in fraudulent gasps of shock,
Looking back up to the stars in blank wonder

As he accelerates into a new page in his book
Closing his chapter with wondrous questions

“Why would I taste your starlight?

When you never believed in our constellation?”

©Drake J. Eszes
It’s good to gaze at the stars and make wishes. But, be careful what you wish for. For Earth has its own gifts…

Details | Night Poem | |

Inner Eye

In-between sleep and wakefulness,
when my dream still lingers,
entwining free-flown fingers
with the morning rays, dancing across my eyelids.

It is in this state of in-between layers
that my inner-eye blinks its prayers,
and I can move backwards
through all of my many memories
until about the age of three -
the time when my imagination was truly free.

When I was three,
there wasn't one God for me to believe in.
There were thousands of Gods and Goddesses
hiding inside of each and every living thing:
Deities in the woods and wind.
Deities hiding beneath the surface 
of our goldfish pond,
water nymphs kissing the feet
of the Lady in the lake.

One of my most vivid memories as a toddler,
was the day I caught a huge, black cricket.
My Father seemed shocked at the size of my catch,
punched holes into the lid of a mason jar
for me to keep the cricket inside of.
He had never seen such an enormous cricket before.
I was so proud.
I remember looking into its mysterious eyes,
believing for some strange reason,
that a loved one, was now inside of this creature.

Such strange thoughts for a three year-old to have.
But at the time, I truly believed in this.
This was sort of my first inner awakening.
My inner-eye was beginning to speye.
The first night with my cricket,
I listened to its hypnotic song,
and realized it sounded similar to the music
that the old Chinese lady listened to, down the street.
This was sort of my second inner awakening.

I didn't know about the Dao back then;
or maybe I just didn't know the labels?
But I did know how I was altering the destiny
of this creature....altering my own being.

The next day, my Father made me release the cricket.
He did not want it to die,
for it was the biggest cricket he had ever seen.
That was still the most proud I had ever been.
Reluctantly, I opened the jar,
waited an eternity for the escape.
That night I swore that I could hear
a distinct "Chiiiiiiirrrrrup" much louder than the rest.
This was sort of my third inner awakening -
my inner-eye, beginning to speye....


....just as I am awakening now,
the morning rays dancing across my eyelids.

Details | Night Poem | |

Indelible

I was seventeen, had one year left of high school and a boyfriend I didn't even love.
It was the end of summer, and I was on the verge of a night indelible
because it was incredible for me.

If "tall, dark, and handsome" had a face, it belonged to one who walked
into the store I worked at nightly all alone. He brought with him a smile just for me -
beautiful, magical, seducing. Were he music, he'd have been the warmest song
to ever touch my soul. Perhaps it was the moon, lunacy-inducing, that made me crave
his visits more and more, for he'd come each night into the store, 
his ritual to tease me with his glances; then stand in line with just one purchase,
engaging me with words deliciously belying that he spoke my native tongue. 
Did he know I fairly worshiped him? 
And where was Aphrodite to let her dear Adonis wander free?

I learned eventually he was staying with a brother and soon would be returning to Quebec. 
I do not know, but I can now infer the moon waxed full by the time he asked me out, 
for I had waxed complete in my audacity. Knowing it was his last night in town, 
I closed the store up early and fled with my Prince Charming.
The stuff of poetry that night transpired. . .
fodder for the several poems of romance I've since penned.
Sitting in his car in front of my own house, late at night, into the early morning. . .
The way he gazed into my eyes, teaching me of butterfly kisses 
and his breathing his sweet breath along my ear lobes,
the way our fingers interlaced, the way he caressed the small of my back. . . 
He taught me how small things
can be just as sensuous as that act of love that virgins do not know,
and he branded me with a yearning for a sweet romantic love I'd never felt so strongly,
nor would I ever know again as wonderfully as I was shown that night,
 for others in my life I've kissed, yet barely missed.

My dream love wrote me postcards from Quebec. Then it all died out.
I married. A few years passed; then I got a call from him, completely unexpected!
Somehow he'd tracked me down to my new home. I took the call, 
 as I held my firstborn baby daughter in one arm.
Heart in my throat, I told him it was nice to hear from him, but I was married now.
So though I'll never know what "may have been," I'm still left with the memory
I chose to make with him  that one day of my life, my very best,
because for just one night, I was Cinderella. A prince still holds my slipper,
and infinite romance lives on inside my poems.



Details | Night Poem | |

Queen Sea and Her Three Paramours

So enchanted was Sun by Queen Sea as he sat near some clouds high above he began sliding down stealthily till he touched the dark face of his love. Then Sir Sky, so aroused by Sea’s hue, began melting along with Sun’s rays, and by now, Sun was dipping into the blue depths of Queen Sea. In a daze, Sky gazed down, and with ruddishness blushed! Then a third lover looked on the face of Queen Sea. Feeling thrilled, Night then brushed rosy heavens with deep purple lace. Night embraced lovely Sea! Sun was gone. And again, Sky with envy looked on. Sonnet done in nine-syllable lines for the Anapest Trimeter Contest of Pendleton Arkwright

Details | Night Poem | |

ONE AUTUMN NIGHT

Our shadows are silhouetted against the fading orange sky.
A blanket of russet and brown leaves carpet the ground
Like tiny children we kick the wind blown leaves, hearing them crunch under our feet
The silvery moon casts its eerie glow, illuminating the trees
Branches once dripping with their coats of leaves are now naked and exposed
The biting wind reminds us that summer is just a distant memory
Pulling our hoods over our heads we hurry home to a roaring fire

09~06~14
Contest:- One Autumn Night
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A

Details | Night Poem | |

Every Night I wonder

Every night,from my little window I watch billions of stars luminating the blue-black sky And every night my thought is filled with you knowing you are somewhere there Somewhere in the same world In a better city,in a different time and in another day Every night I wonder about what you're doing in that moment Awaiting a new sunrise Drinking a hot cup of coffee Sitting in your back porch Planting tomato seeds or reading a newspaper I wonder if you're strolling on the side-walk on your way to work Or just chatting with a friend. Every night, I think of you I wonder if you ever watch the stars and think of me too. Every night. I wonder what it feels like If We could borrow just one night If We could borrow just one moment To feel your arms around me To feel my lips upon your lips To watch the stars that warm lone hearts Shine blissfully upon our faces Every night I wonder what it feels like Just to be with you.
Inspired by the song 'One moment in time'

Details | Night Poem | |

the color of her eyes wake me in the night: contest thirteen

i guess i shouldn't let the color of her eyes wake me in the night but i miss her.  her voice sings to me in the shower i should listen to the rushing water  but i miss her. when i laugh i hear her laugh with me, i shouldn’t but i miss her. i know now love isn't enough.  you can love each other with every centimeter of your make up  but realities will sometimes trump that passion you fight for it, years if you have to you just dance in the soiled water of the flood but sometimes, well like i said, love isn't enough. this isn't a sad story, a feel sorry for me discourse, the moments were real they still live with me she is a part of me us is still in me. i still smile when i think of her, i guess i always will.  but sometimes, in the capture of a moon lit night i also cry.

Details | Night Poem | |

Christmas night reflections

Fluttering beneath the newly cut
Festive green hollies,
Decked out with heaped drapes
Of freshly fallen snow,
A bold little red breasted Robin,
Busily searching,
Cheerfully hops to and fro.

Darting between the soft swirling
flakes 
Of unique crystalline, driven without 
respite,
He alights upon his sheltered 
perch
And begins to shrilly trill,
Against the on coming, long
Drawn out Christmas night.

For the drawing darkness is
deepening;
Whilst the harsh wind blows so chill;
And, gently waking
From nonsensical dreaming,
I harken to the old dog Fox,
As barking, he pads on down 
Through the gorse strewn hill.

Now stirred from dozing idleness,
As the charred log shifts and 
settles in the grate,
I recall with vivid fondness:
Some old memories, good times,
The well meant promises
I did so earnestly to undertake...

Of old acquaintance not forgotten,
And those that were,
Or are no more,
Of circumstance, and friendship,
And of they
That daily come
To pass through my open door.

But now the flames from the fire,
Dancing in the frosted window
panes,
Are calling for the poker
So i may stoke the blaze again;
For, turning my warming back
Upon the locked out winters keep...

I hear that steadfast little Robin,
Sing once more,
As i fall back into uncontested sleep.

Details | Night Poem | |

Shades of Poe , Speaketh

Shades of Poe , Speaketh


Shades of Poe oft run in my veins
dark, dirty little splashing stains
No Raven stirs my battered heart
nor any signs on my astrology chart

Dark mysteries seep in at night
shadowed beings birthing fright
Muffled sounds sent to alarm
evil crying to scare and harm

Then my soul cries out to Poe
help me now , for you must know
Remedy for this sad affliction
a spell to give quick eviction

Reply creeps slowly back to me
close your eyes to sadly see
Darkness that drives men mad
such my heart and soul once had

No cure can by me be so gifted
you need Light to be so uplifted
My words are my aid little as is
answer you seek can only be His
Son of Light only can save you
my darkness left me only that clue!

Robert J. Lindley  10-12-2014

note:  Tis' the month the Dark spreads 
its evil mists to kids tucked in beds,
scary voices crying muffled shouts,
battles and shadowed little bouts,
goblins, ghouls and witches now abound
imagine such and they are then found!

Details | Night Poem | |

Date Night (and the day after)

Opening line from "Highway Five Love Poem" by Ruth L. Schwartz


This is a love poem for all the tomatoes
I squished to make our Date-Night spaghetti.
Our love, like the pasta, was shiny.  So the story goes.

We sit at our table, between us a rose
Red as the marinara I chose.  (He let me).
This is a love poem for all our tomatoes.

We watch the steam, which the mouth quickly blows
Away (like the wind and those petals the day he met me).
Our love, like the pasta, was sticky.  So the story goes.

We sip our red wine.  Chianti, it has a good nose.
(In the morning, do you think he will regret me?)
This is a love poem.  For all our tomatoes

Are gone, just as the wine hides grapes squished by toes
in authentic California vineyards.  (You get me?)
Our love, like the pasta, was steamy.  So the story goes.

We finish our meal with gestures the other knows.
(I wonder if he'll someday forget me.)
This isn't a love poem for all our tomatoes.
Our love, like our pasta, was al dente.  So our story goes.

Details | Night Poem | |

A Night At The Desolate Harbor

The ship in the habor on silvery seas Lay vacant outspread 'neath the glassy moon Drifting in cold whispers of the night Like a drunk man shriveled on clasping knees In the loud echoes of the crawling winds The brave ship nods its old head Restless on the empty stage of the bay When lonely stars bleed their light On what was once earthly sublimity Now silence and haunt lingers there A graveyard of bones and sadness Beside the desolate harbor Rustling in the cold distance Laboring with a haunting melody That invades me in shivers of night. Sadness defeats The happy spaces of my mind Then your sweet kiss would descend Oh... your sweet kiss would descend As a fragrant memory Thawing the pain In the frost of my heart. My soul beckons your presence But silence became my loyal friend And Emptiness - The sorrowing of my hours That slithers through the night As the brave ship nods its old head Crackling and desolate In silvered breaking waters 'Neath moon's limpid eyes My hands descend With crimson buds of April's flowers To rest upon your tomb Of eternal silence.
''Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.''