This Prayer
Oh, hear this woeful prayer, with
a sigh of sorrow whispered;
will my heart ever stop hurting ,oh
eternal my sad tears fly.
I kneel forlorn and lost, weeping
within this box of grief;
and fear another dawn and day,
which brings more tears to weep.
And I am stained with the blood,
of love long, long departed;
I am never free from voices,
which call from cold, cold tombs.
And among the bones are names,
my broken heart recalls; forever
in my soul they are engraved ,
and on a slender thread I am kept,
( . . . tethered to this eternal grief)
_____________________________
February 4, 2019- Edit from 2016
Poetry/Verse/This Prayer
Copyright Protected, ID 16-1111-935-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, February 2019 Standard
Brian Strand
First Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2019
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