Morning

Poems

Then Morning spread his aerial wings of gold
over the fading darkness of the night,
though my heartbeats were growing weak and cold,
ecstasy flooded me at the splendid sight!
   

I forgot the torments of sleepless hours
and the curse of my native latitude,
our eviction from the heavens’ bowers
and the pangs of preordained solitude.
   

With wings of waxed feathers I followed him,
unmindful of the fate of Icarus!

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Courtney M. Wendleton

I'm an author with an associate's in psychology. Interested in a lot of different things, and love controversy. The more controversial the better, but that's not all I'm interested in. Can be a bit confusing at times, but that's normal!

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