The icy winds of dawn dig in their nails
Daylights first break tempered

For the light only scatters along the horizon
But does not yet kiss your skin

As her nails dig in, a familiar pain takes grip
Familiarity is a fickle friend

If progress is measured in wounds healed
Then taking shelter is Apollo

For you see what's in front of your eyes
It's beautiful, and it's coming to you