Beseeching day
It bathed in the light that gave its way
The fallen darkness and the beseeching day
And came the thorn of the rose that awoke the morning glory
To lay the eyes upon the reopened story
It fell to the lashes of midnight to arise its darkened desires
Kept its blanket of sin with its solemn liars
In the coldness of the night, it had covered itself with its threads
And from the sleep, it took its apathy from its dread
Extracted the dullness and bred the despair with blackened grapes
Grapes of wine that set the beholder to agape
It set multitude to the wounds and kept this mournful weeping
It listened to its sobs and it fell in its blanket of sin, went to its sleeping
And came the sun with all its power to burn the distaste from the earth’s tongue
And came the sun with all it powerful rays the bled melody that the earth sung
Oh and how it warmed the thread of the blanket and burned a whole to see it
Its rays like millions of tiny hands ripped its way in, so it would believe it
And it in a drunken slumber it tasted the light and held its way
Oh and how it purified itself in the beseeching day
Lex
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