Woods of Old
From deep within the winter night
A voice shall wake and soar on high
With never but a single light
To shine upon its bitter cry.
A voice, a heart, a face, a star
Shall roam above the woods of old
And carry out our thoughts afar
Into the storm of ice and cold.
The woods shall stir, the embers quake,
The rills of life shall turn to snow
Far long before the dead can wake
To deal the living one last blow.
Dull rain shall fall, the moon grow thin,
The wolves shall close around their prey,
All life lamenting it had been
No more than game to hunt and slay.
And then the world shall rise anew:
A brighter sun shall reign at last
Above the bravest and the few
Who have outdone their bitter past.
Find Langford's poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
Copyright © Eton Langford | Year Posted 2016
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