Letting Go

The fading stars,
and the waning moon;
The settling of tears,
on grass,
like the morning dew;
The night of grieving,
leaving you;
Like the mist on mountains,
you almost look through;
And learn how to,
beg, for hope to spew,
on the flowers abloom,
the fresh graves of yesterday…

© soulreserve 2015

(For the poetryriot prompt ‘How to Beg’)

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