Shadows of the Evening

by David A

Before the numberless starry orbs up high
Looked on me, silent prisoner of the hour,
Unblinking as if sleep should hold no power
Patiently shielding me from morning nigh
The sky was bright, too warm a burning smile,
And in that grave minute when the deep blue 
Gave way to ashen frowns, I wish I knew
What moved across the sky from their exile?
Just right before they fell, I did not know 
The evening shadow would descend so soon
And shade the Earth, devouring the noon.
I could not know those shadows would bestow
A cover for the creatures who’d wrestle
Me to my darkest dreams and bleakest hell.

The Poor Print

Established in 2013, The Poor Print is the student-run newspaper of Oriel College, Oxford. Written by members of the JCR, MCR, SCR and staff, new issues are published fortnightly during term. Our current Executive Editors are Siddiq Islam and Jerric Chong.

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