Murky Hours Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Murky Hours



In my heart was a dark sea
Flowing through so lonely
Nothing but the cloudy sky
In its seclusion of times fly
Reaching to lands of dark
Where moon comes in a spark
Every day is like a night
Desperate hours in its flight

Bottoms like the sea of deep
Every morning mine to keep
Giving nothing to discover
Only darkness my truest lover
With mountains shadows evermore
Reaching to my front door
Life is restless in its fire
Every dream in new conspire
Filling emptiness with a still
Nothing of its wings to fulfill
Making dripping water sound
Tone and tone echoing around

Like whitish lilies lying dead
Are the sheets on my bed?
Chilly breezy through the door
Not answering footsteps anymore
Every hour falling on slow
Time keeps still on its go
Morning comes in red and deep
Like flowers that life can't keep
Memories scattering in my mind
All is long now past behind
Flowing deep through earth of past
Withering passage in the rust
Heart travels and wonders why
Everything has moved here on by
Yesterdays in their melancholy
Meet forgetfulness too promptly
The murmur of the night is living
What the past once was giving

Peaceful ways to come in dreams
Where each reality nowhere seems
Steadfastly like a cloudy drift
Each inspiration to openly lift
Through the air of mysteries
Traveling on through histories
Something the eyes have not seen
Nor any human before there been
With so much seeing in glow shine
Threads of gold and silver line
Beholding sightings of the far
Daybreak’s hour and morning star

Road to the home of no one’s land
Passages reality can't understand
Rivers of time in distances reigns
From uncertainty of endless gains
Sight of lands on a faraway shore
Lost in a moment of a fancy lore

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