There's a new dawn,
falls over the hills of captives
and the valleys of oppression.
There's been a man in your life
whose image in the mirror
should be that of a shackle;
he's been more your warden
than passionate lover.
Your eyes have been shut too long,
his evil fingers have pressed them closed
as if you were a mortuary corpse.
I'm no prince charming,
my kiss cannot awaken the sleeping dead;
but I'll leave myself buried in hell
if I can't discover a way to liberate you!
2: 41AM 1-5-2017
All 877 poems by Uriah Hamilton