upon the rising light of a brand new sun to gracefully shine.
The ambience of a morning beginning with chirps that we hear,
a beautiful painting composed by the repeating cycle of time.
Skies of blue as if touched by the reflection of a clear ocean,
A blessing from destinations from beyond the reach of mind.
Only what we see can perfectly display our stirring emotions,
and yet it seems this is just the start for our eyes.
We have seen nothing yet believe to have seen everything,
life is limited within our thoughts that tend to repeat.
A circular thinking that prevents the belief of many things,
miracles are visible beyond the picture of our vague dreams.
The soaring birds that rip through the clouds that drift by,
aircrafts that we constructed seem to follow them.
It is by our hands that have invented the very code we live by,
but our desires linger on and have still left us hollow then.
Allow the sun to find sleep as it lowers it's majesty,
setting fire to the skies it once rested itself upon.
An orange of red that causes magnificence to suppress blasphemy,
and as the darkness engulfs us; let us hear the star's songs.
Even the angels sleep during the dance of the moon,
a silent night wherein we seek only rest and sleep.
Nightmares invade our minds and forewarn impending doom,
yet they too are only images of yet another kind of dream.