Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Waning Hours of Night by Nomar Knight

Waning Hours of Night

In the waning hours of night
He rocked in his wooden chair
Bathed, in a pitiful plight
With a large waist and no hair

So many years without a wife
Brooding over actions not taken
In a life filled with strife
With soul stirred, but not shaken

He preached, about action
While watching history unfold
No personal satisfaction
Nothing glamorous to behold

Never once tried to make
Anything, on his own
Only emotions, did he fake
Plenty of opportunities blown

As sharp as a gilded knife
His memory awakened
Towards the end of his life
He, was not mistaken

Crying out in despair
Eyes fixed on the final light
Released his last breath of air
In the waning hours of night

© Copyright 2010 Nomar Knight All rights reserved.
Nomar Knight has granted Knight Chills non-exclusive rights to display this work.