Dark would not yield this morn,
like the widow heavy in sorrow,
darkness held on.
Hope of light suspended,
to the weighted veil that blackens,
both sky and heart.
silence knows your name,
silent is your name
and gone with it, our dawn.
Dark would not yield this morn,
like the widow heavy in sorrow,
darkness held on.
Hope of light suspended,
to the weighted veil that blackens,
both sky and heart.
silence knows your name,
silent is your name
and gone with it, our dawn.
“Expression 
the weighted veil a very nice description – I can read this as literal and moodily metaphorical
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The words that assauge grief rarely speak to the sorrow at the center of the bereaved, The silence of the one that is gone, speaks very personally. Stunning
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Thank you your lovely comment Lona x
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I like the way the thought intensifies in these lines….
“silence knows your name, silent is your name”
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Thank you Mish x
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The darkness as a the weight of a veil… that is really how I imagine depression to be like.
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This has a heaviness. Thank you for sharing your piece here Catherine, and for putting yourself out there in your words!
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It started as a play on a dark morning, and I could resist playing with mourning alongside. Thank you x
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