From earth's *****, he rises with glory
conqueror of shadows, the young morning sun
through nature's children, he tells his story
the mortals rejoice of what he’d done.

The first laughter comes from the flowers
While birds starts the song of the morn
And Dawn is rendered in full raw power
In his wake, a new day is born.

Upon the hour, when he is no longer young
His freedom slowly changes into pride
His fiery rays mocks the bird’s song
Softness and contentment finally divides.

Then the illusion appears
As everything he touches becomes a shadow
His own creation, thwarts him clear
Like a very treacherous foe.




And by the passing of day
His pride slowly subsides
yet he has a lot to say
But in whom shall he confide?

The answer came out easy
When a calm breeze swept his land
the birds returned home, and the flowers busy
to pray for the next dawn, hand-in hand.

The setting sun had the same innocence
That presented the beautiful dawn
For dusk speaks through his fading presence
With the same language that started the dawn.

The shadows were exalting at his departure
Until they too, felt the call
Broken were their form, and structure
When darkness consumed them all.