The dusk lies heavy o’er the land,
A solemn hush on every strand;
And though the world grows cold and wide,
I walk where all my hopes have died.
The withered fields recall thy grace,
A ghost‑light on the empty place;
And every wind that chills the air
Doth bear thy name in soft despair.
For sorrow, ancient as the night,
Doth swallow stars and steal their light;
And angels, once in radiance crowned,
Now tread the dust of broken ground.
Their halos, dimmed by grief untold,
Burn faint as embers growing cold;
And wings that once knew heaven’s height
Now falter in the failing light.
I wander ’midst their silent fall,
Where shattered gleams on shadows crawl;
And in that pale, forsaken glow,
I feel the ache no dawn may know.
Yet still I tread, though hope hath flown,
With hollow heart and marrow lone;
For love, once bright as seraph’s breath,
Now binds my soul in living death.
4d ago
May 31, 2026 at 2:44 PM UTC
The dusk lies heavy o’er the land,
A solemn hush on every strand;
And though the world grows cold and wide,
I walk where all my hopes have died.
The withered fields recall thy grace,
A ghost‑light on the empty place;
And every wind that chills the air
Doth bear thy name in soft despair.
For sorrow, ancient as the night,
Doth swallow stars and steal their light;
And angels, once in radiance crowned,
Now tread the dust of broken ground.
Their halos, dimmed by grief untold,
Burn faint as embers growing cold;
And wings that once knew heaven’s height
Now falter in the failing light.
I wander ’midst their silent fall,
Where shattered gleams on shadows crawl;
And in that pale, forsaken glow,
I feel the ache no dawn may know.
Yet still I tread, though hope hath flown,
With hollow heart and marrow lone;
For love, once bright as seraph’s breath,
Now binds my soul in living death.
My quiet confession written in the ruins of light — a wandering heart speaking to the remnants of something once holy. A poem shaped from dim halos, broken vows, and the soft collapse of hope. It carries the hush of wings that no longer rise, and the echo of a love that glows even as it fades. A piece meant to feel like a secret kept between dusk and the first trembling star.
