In My Hour Of Darkness
In my Hour of Darkness—still—
The Sun forgets—to Rise—
And every Bird—abandons—Air—
For Silence—Paradise—
The Candle—burns—a quieter Flame—
Than Morning—ever knew—
Its trembling Soul—a Whisper sends—
To Shadows—passing through—
I fold—my Spirit—like a Robe—
Around—its tender Ache—
And lean—upon—Eternity—
For Solace—it can’t make—
For Light—is not—of Lantern born—
Nor borrowed—from the Sky—
It blossoms—in the Blackest Place—
Where only—Angels—cry—
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