Dark Hour

Another 1997 poem – and obviously from the content, some dark moments.

In this dark hour of my soul
For you surely are what makes it whole:
Keep not back your shining light
I beg of you, to end my night
I need to know the value of
to you, my aches and works of love.
Time may pass and events unfold
I need to know, when me, you’ll hold
For presently my heart’s a whirling pool
Spinning round, pondering like a worried fool
Unsure of his beloved master’s grace
For invisible is the favour on his face
Are my endeavors a foolish soul’s charade?
Am I the lead marcher in the fool’s parade?

In this dark hour of my soul
For you surely are what makes it whole:
Hold back no longer your living touch
(Upon my knees I beg and plead so much)
For if you find value in my thoughts
Surely my being, where these are wrought
Holds some small amount of want and worth.
Ah! There cannot be an ounce of mirth
Within this body, deprived of loving caress
Or from these eyes, blinded from no peaceful rest
Till the day whence round about, your arms
do hold it, quenching the fiery doubt’s alarms
And thereby through my eyes and skin
Your light extinguish the bleak darkness within.

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