We Wait. We Hope.

An orange glow begins to creep up,
From behind the black sheet of night.
Inching up before the lost hearted,
Desperately awaiting its return.

No man sits watching, counting,
Unless succumbed to sleep deprivation.
For it's beauty is not that of enjoyment,
But of endless and hourless heartache.

With eyes pushed down, and minds heavy in thought,
We wait once again.
For a day led by those,
Light enough to allow their minds to float.

Night after night,
We bask under the same deep sky.
Longing for the day when we awake,
Engulfed in the warm light of morning.

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