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The Morrow

Clouds aloft and tides below,
Of stormy water from the high winds;
And like a descending shadow from a hero's ashes.
To prove as true from Poland and,
To visit th tombs in Turkey with my lover;
And the voices from the mourners are over now.
The virgins of Africa do lament,
For the blood of their people are as pour as the blessing;
And like the last thought on my throne of love,
But the stars on the sea will be there for the morrow.
Wise ans deep in lore,
And like a worthless clay in a captive;
But the morrow will prove the truth to all.
Of the fingers of man's hand,
Let joy be unconfined to all!
And like the war-note with the memory of the thousands of years;
But my sweet love will always be with you my lonely lady.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Added by Poetry Lover
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