Nothing is as lonesome as the night.
The stars are burning dim,
As the whipporwill calls.
A tear streaks my face,
as his call tears my heart.
As the weight of the moon,
Presses me down to the earth.,
I cry out for help,
With a voice that makes no sound.
The weight of the world,
Keeps me pressed to the ground.
The crickets chirp,
And,
The tree frogs sing.
And above it all,
I hear the whipporwills.....
Plaintive call
May 6, 2021
May 6, 2021 at 3:28 PM UTC
Nothing is as lonesome as the night.
The stars are burning dim,
As the whipporwill calls.
A tear streaks my face,
as his call tears my heart.
As the weight of the moon,
Presses me down to the earth.,
I cry out for help,
With a voice that makes no sound.
The weight of the world,
Keeps me pressed to the ground.
The crickets chirp,
And,
The tree frogs sing.
And above it all,
I hear the whipporwills.....
Plaintive call
Request permission to use this poem