Dawn
From Off the Road Database
The grim dawn lightens thin bleak clouds;
In the hills beyond the flooded meadows
Lies death-pale, death-still mist.
We trudge along wearily,
Heavy with lack of sleep,
Spiritless, yet with pretence of gaiety.
The sun brings crimson to the colourless sky;
Light shines from brass and steel;
We trudge on wearily—
Our unspoken prayer:
"God, end this black and aching anguish
Soon, with vivid crimson agonies of death,
End it in mist-pale sleep."
