Agonies Unbid

The feeling never goes away, it’s like
an ache of emptiness – a lack of light
as dark descends; I’d even pray if prayer
was lent to easing ever unsure pain.

The things I should have said I never did
for words unheard a price in silence paid
I say them every day as promises
‘tho now they are as agonies unbid.

At dawn the sun will rise and free the light
I yearn to see in your return – although in
doubt of clouds; coolness of the night remains
without your gentle warmth constrained.
© 9 July 2009, I. D. Carswell