WHEN THE MORNING COMES

WHEN THE MORNING COMES

The night is not yet over

But it’s almost coming to an end

What a relief, the morning is near

The pain and its agony, the nightmares

All soon be gone, when the morning comes

The road is foggy, the woods unclear

Which way to go, the road or woods

There is a long way to go, what destination?

Temptation never ceases to come, it’s complicated

Hope it’s worth the risk, when the morning comes

Like an audience in a theatre

Occupying the spaces from the parterre upwards

Watching a tale from the beginning

Expecting a meaningful end

And what will it be? A question for the morning

Though the road isn’t so clear

Likewise the woods

I haven’t come this far to stop walking.