•B»L»I»N«D»»T«I»M»E»S« In the blind times
Of the
When you
early feel
morn
your heart
Empty and
fill
At a slower pace,
And
thoughts of the
Daily gauntlet-running
And
bruises incurred
In the
way cause
Trembling and If
tears,
moment lift cry to the One
but for one
Upwards
Whose
a
heart only
fills
With thoughts of you. •
Joseph Earl
