Clarity


If in the morn,
As I rise,
I then know,
That I will die,
I refuse to cower,
I refuse to cry,
While I sit in the peace
of the sunrise.

With every ray,
of the sun that gleams
I begin to feel
my soul slip free,
and all I ask,
Is you let me be,
And watch my spirit
sail the sea.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem