Forsaken And Forlorn

A poem by David Herbert Lawrence

The house is silent, it is late at night, I am alone.
From the balcony I can hear the Isar moan,
Can see the white
Rift of the river eerily, between the pines, under a sky of stone.

Some fireflies drift through the middle air Tinily.
I wonder where
Ends this darkness that annihilates me.

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