Ode to Grey Mornings

Grey mornings drape the world in sorrow’s hue,

A canvas washed in the weep of dew.

Not just gloom, but a profound embrace,

Where sadness paints every silent space.

Why do these days seem to linger so?

Their heavy whispers slow, echoing low.

A quiet symphony of the soul’s deep cries,

Under brooding skies, where brightness dies.

Yet, in this cloak of somber shades,

A delicate beauty quietly invades.

Reflection finds a place to stand,

In the stillness of the land.

Embrace the grey, let it teach and mend,

For even sad days eventually bend.

Towards the light, they stretch and reach,

Bringing lessons only they can teach.