Misery
Misery
By every altar mourns with woe
one with sorrow crushed.
Is my faith so much to give?
Will you ever come to me—ever again?
Your face gleams in the dim expanse of night,
but fear creeps out into the first light of day;
out of a surging sea of blood flecked waves,
where hope is dashed upon a savage shore
that is sorely tempest tossed, and is soon swallowed up
in a dark that long out-burns the day,
where winter solstice likes to the shortened light.
Long eternity should greet my bliss,
for swift death is bliss to men in misery.
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