morning comes late

[fledgist]

 

dark weighs upon us where there should be day
the distant voices do not ease our fear
there's not much movement in the heavy air

we have no choice whether to go or stay
and neither energy nor hope to spare
dark weighs upon us where there should be day

in such deep silence we ought not to stray
but cannot hope simply to stand and stare
there is no limit to how much we care
dark weighs upon us where there should be day