deepundergroundpoetry.com
For the Morning Sun
I wait for the morning of a dead sun
For this darkness, to long it has become
I wait for the repeated answer
To be told
The fact and truth to behold
I wait for, as I lay here and cry
I wait here for the Earth to lay down and die
For the morning of a dead sun will not come
For the mourning of a dead sun will not come.
I wait for the forgotten
As they packed their backs and left
They gave nothing but a were thefts
Because the sun is dead
No morning to dread
No wake up call to break my dream
No light to be redeemed
As I lie here, wondering the time
I think to myself, with a sigh
Why was I chosen to stay, why was my day not today
For this darkness, to long it has become
I wait for the repeated answer
To be told
The fact and truth to behold
I wait for, as I lay here and cry
I wait here for the Earth to lay down and die
For the morning of a dead sun will not come
For the mourning of a dead sun will not come.
I wait for the forgotten
As they packed their backs and left
They gave nothing but a were thefts
Because the sun is dead
No morning to dread
No wake up call to break my dream
No light to be redeemed
As I lie here, wondering the time
I think to myself, with a sigh
Why was I chosen to stay, why was my day not today
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