Before the Dawn

by Once an Angel   May 3, 2016


In that place -
on an unfolded futon,
with wrinkled blankets,
crumpled and untucked,
strewn with too many
flat and lumpy pillows;
where lights abandoned the studio,
but for the city's mechanical glow
flashing on the stale wind,
cut into pieces by the blinds.

In that time -
when the glowing clock tower,
buried by new buildings,
cried its silent warning,
hours before the dawn;
before the sun's kiss
had thought of reaching
for the distant mountain skyline;
when the possibility of sleep
was both abandoned and longed for,
as out of reach as the sun.

In that place,
in that time,
watered by too much wine
despair feasted
on my starving, dying hope,
and played the symphony
of my everlasting lullaby,
notes merged with the absence
of any and all light,
with oppressive certainty.

Words,
dear words,
while in that place
and in that time
I sought your poetic madness
to keep me company
in the dark and lonely
desperate hours,
just before the hoped for dawn -

where were you?

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