Tuesday, September 11, 2012

After the wait

The hours passed
And the night has left,
Would it still be morning
If the sun wasn't there?

The rain after the drought,
The end of a storm,
The first word from a child,
The waking up from a coma.

Each move of the clock
Slices away a little hope,
Just how much is left
When this trial shall end.

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