Desolate Dawn
Desolate dawn
Where is the sharpness of the knife that used to cut us sweet,
Have the stones gone soft or our hearts grown into damp wood
Could we not bring that spark which we used to have in our hug ,
Where gone those passions rich and glowing, could not we renew
Them again? The wind is very harsh now and nights are nasty cruel .
Where is the raw smell of the roses which used to make us mad
Has it gone down floating with the stream of time or blown into
The wind, could not we reverse the flow, those emotions strong
And profound, could not we grow them again? The bed is very
Cold and the nights are too long
Where is the sun where is the breeze once who used to sway
The flowers in my garden and I meet with my moon, where gone
Those days grand and glorious when all bow their head and roll
at the feet of my handsomeness ?
if life were a dream , this state I would never choose , I would live
to love , would be young forever and always remain proud and
never allowed nights to break into a desolate dawn and lose .
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