And The Dawn


And the Dawn arrives, fresh from his sleep,
While the eastern sky is thriving with hue
Golden with a shade of pink and sky blue.
Crows flying in search of meals, pack of sparrows
Westward not far behind, to the old stream
I knew in my childhood but long dead now.
Framed by the towers long and stout, the clouds
For the dead Night, still hold a shade of gray.
Noises of life have not yet drown the calm
Of the serene air, pure, still fresh from us.

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