Breathing the night
A hope dark like words I've not said--
Breathing the night,
The stars speak of wrong and of right.
They know not the future I dread
Nor how I have given and bled,
Breathing the night.
Taken in hand
We come to agree before dawn,
Taken in hand.
And more than what I understand--
A look of what grace we've foregone.
This night has now bade me move on,
Taken in hand.
All of it dies,
Like the night as the light breaks through.
All of it dies,
And we are aware as it flies.
The night air lent mercy to you
And yours is the beauty I knew;
All of it dies.
postscript
NaPoWriMo day one: a rondelet. Three, actually. Though I will NOT promise to use form poetry all month. One thing I have enjoyed about past NaPos is the freedom. I will use a lot of blank verse, most likely. But either way, I'm excited to do it again. Sixth year in a row!