Weariness
She woke to see another day,
Now she wakes to grief;
All the sunny days are gone,
With time that was the thief.
Once she rose to greet the dawn,
Now she hates to rise;
When she needs to greet the day,
She opens tired eyes.
Songbirds in the blossomed tree,
With flowers all unfurled;
Hold dreams that are not to be,
In her other world.
Why would she seek a higher place?
For alone she drifts right here;
Quiet in the nether parts,
With those who held her dear.
When twilight comes they rise,
Each familiar face;
Phantoms floating round her head,
Hold her spirit in embrace.
Now she wakes to greet the day,
To take a brand new breath;
Then recalls her need to sleep,
With the weariness of death
Copyright © Elizabeth Wesley | Year Posted 2011
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