The Darkest Hour

The Darkest Hour short poem

Photo by p_c_w

It is the darkest hour of the night, and I am waiting for dawn.
To see the pink of the sky, and the misty morn.
The night looks beautiful, in it’s dark.
It brings glory and repute to the morning spark.
It is easy for us to feel the beauty of the day.
But the dark night serenely comes and goes away.
It is night’s magic, that we can see the smallest star.
The beauty of the night is in it’s darkest hour.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Profile photo of Vibha Lohani

Vibha Lohani

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
I have been writing since I was in class five, and I have written (like many others) for myself and kept my writings hidden in the pages of my diary. After 10 years of office and family duties I finally brought the writer in me out of the closet and started sharing my writings on public forums. The first time I did so , my story was selected by Penguin Publishers and Mrs Sudha Murty and published in an anthology "Something Happened on the Way to Heaven". This encouraged me to share my works further. So here I am ...
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of
avatar
wpDiscuz

The Dark Hour

The Dark Hour short poem

Standing on the road, that diverges at the end One way leads to green glory, another to the dark lane The lane never travelled, is the one I wish for As Darkness chased me, but I followed a star Standing

Zero Hour

Zero Hour short poem

It was night’s fury whipping up hysteria on specks of flames, dancing in pain. On a heap of ashes and bones where a child of death will be born. Before fading, moon will kiss the golden thighs of sun and

In The Hour Of The Northern Mockingbird

In The Hour Of The Northern Mockingbird long poem

Cashmere, super playboy cologne and a little bit of gold and silver well I’m beginning to see everything in a whole new light this rainy Monday… Yesterday was not my day but now I know everything’s gonna be alright, everything’s

Love’s Brief Hour

Loves Brief Hour short poem

In love’s brief hour, A new joy is born, quite uncommon, Spelling rhythms of stepping affair coming up. Half drawn eyes glowing, full of fineries, Giving gentle knocks in hesitating heart. It is the glorious hour, being in passion fever,

Darkest Hour

Darkest Hour short poem

I sit in the dark and wait for the day. The darkest hour of my life, I do not know when it will pass away. A fear lurking inside, my faith seems to have lost its way. I peep back