Constance La France Poet Verse

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

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