The Hour Before The Dawn

There is an hour that lingers before
the dawn,
As if it were to set the hook in depth
of night,
In desperation grasping for the light
withdrawn.
From within, deepest fears pour forth
to incite
A fiend that onward looks to hope
that's gone.
Prey that'd flee if had the power
of flight.
'Round about the heavy burdens curtain
drawn,
Weakened eyes but strain for hints
of light.

The deafening roar of silence to haunt
thy head,
Echoes the beat by hands of time- as if
to moan
A muffled cadence - the journey of
the dead.
Drawing from the soul's spontaneous
groan,
A lifeless surrender to a mournful
dread.
Spread out upon the endless depth
was prone,
Appeared the helpless corpse upon
thy bed.
For shall thy servant ....suffer death...
alone?

Through darkness broke a single
ray,
That shattered death with hopes
of life.
Only after dark of night, can one see
the day.
Abruptly quiets dreadful sounds of
inward strife
And calms the tormented soul it's
downward sway,
As piercing through the blinding veil-
the knife.
Regenerate spirit breathes out it's sighs
of praise,
As One hopelessly blind receives his sight..........

To only see His face.


Amy Rainey 3/6/10