Where Darkness Lingers


The rose is spoiled, no appeal to the senses
The dawn has no colour that sweetens the ear
The wind is not gentle, has many offenses
The wine is sour with the taste of man's fear

There is no light which brightens the morning
No song which raises the heart in the shell
There is no soft kiss, no warm forewarning
No dove to carry the hope in the swell

There are no colours seen by the eyes
No creations in the mind and fingers
No sonnets, no songs, no paintings, no prize
From the soul, where only the darkness lingers

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