Songs Of Pain Poem by Peter S. Quinn

The times are getting lonely now
In their suffer and exhausting old way
For all the agonizing they allow
When proportions of their anger will play
So much is filled with songs of painful wars
And dreams that never came to grow about
In complication dimness like above stars
That in a night shall show only their doubt

That feeling of the heart my true dearest
Is like a dew from the crying of the sky
And each their dropp is in my distress nearest
With every question that asks on why
Oh heavens step why all this war and pain
With all their sufferings and sorrow slain