The Fall of the Rising Sun

The Fall of the Rising Sun
By: Adam M. Snow

 

Dark is the day that lingers on and on,
Whether it be, or whether it be not,
In spite of all, that was but now is gone,
We are but lost in the echoes of the dark.
Forever in darkness where light dares not to go,
We dug our earthly womb, deeper than man can go,
Purged our hearts with a white rose thorn,
Broken, every childish dream.
Now manifest is our love for hatred scorn,
Yet we are alone, on this trimester morn.

Reviews

[Dalebear]

This poem has a good flow and good use of words

[TM "Ree" Tate]

good flow and word usage