The misty morning calls.
When the haze of the night fog falls.
Out in the shadows.
Lurk and creeping.
The threes stand alone; shy and weeping.
Dawn falls in love again
Like it did then.
Before the heavens cast their light,
The faded will be warm and bright.
Before the night will pass.
Dreams will come at last.
Last.
For the whispering night.
YOU ARE READING
The Hard Truth
PoetryHeres the truth Look if you dare once your in your here to stay the truth will conquer you in every possible way -JUSTIC3
