I Lay Me Down
One white flower in a wan worn field,
The frailest of butterflies failing,
The brown-leafed grief of an old year's yield,
The last ray of sun unavailing;
I lay me down in the wan worn field,
I close up the wings of my eyes,
To the sorrow of loneliness I give in, yield,
Till you shine down again, or love dies.
Copyright © Brian Faulkner | Year Posted 2008
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