I got here by the window side,
To gaze upon the sky outside;
And contemplate the morning mist,
Of who is my bride and where she is.
A thousand years of drinks and more,
The skies light hearted dull to poor;
A thrifty trend of shallow ways,
Is answered in the grey old days.
A grey old day, what will occur,
A standard word to her or concur;
Of time lost in the risen lord,
The truth to come and be my reward.
A miracle of days gone by,
Of blues skies perfect and scattered clouds die;
As if the morning was lost just now,
To be revealed but only God knows how.
All humbles here within my room,
Of all that’s visible appears gloom and doom;
It's not as if I cannot hear,
But see in depth and wisdom fear.
So long ago did the lord portray,
Of what would be a grey old day;
But beyond my shallow penned down page,
Te sun is there in ancient age.
Signed,
Blackness numbed comes