The Promise of Day

Dawn calls upon the puerile day,
for the dews are her tears,
the rays of the Sun ,
embraces away her fears.

As the fair maiden awakens,
she stretches out her limbs,
greeting the morning,
with a wave to the sky.

Aloof of all worries,
she steps out for a look,
a majestic of promise,
that none could deny.

In retrospect,
all roses have their thorns,
as the Sun leaves her side,
one's fear of emptiness without light.

That perfect picture,
slowly fades away,
from a life of technicolour,
to a polluting grey.

As she hides with haste,
under a thick blanket of black,
deserted and abandoned,
her fears still intact.

A light emerges from the gloom,
threading a starry path,
arriving in beaming glory,
a face plighted by a pimply wrath.

The Moon shines high,
into the evening sky,
outlining Earth's curves,

with a gentle caress.

To whisper sweet nothings,
as the breeze goes by,
to shower her with love,
deserving no less.

Her fears eases away,
for salvation is near,
but come what may,
the cycle continues and so will the fear.