Coming Dawn

Sir Sun turns his back, as Mr. Dark strides up to take his turn,
Light retreats back over the horizon from whence it came, carrying the promise of the dawn away,
Night tucks in old grey men with old grey skin,
Welcomed with open arms is a deserved temporal sleep from the eternal sky stretch, these old men beg for rest,
Beginning of first fresh breath, as Dark puts to bed Sun’s little sprouts,
Little men lights brighten up little men worlds, speaking out in the dark,
But never to be heard,
As sounds of beauty leave hand crafted throats, Mr. Moon borrows partial Sir Sun beauty,
Dark is filling my vision, covering all I know,
Is that terror I feel?
Gloom is coming to my doorstep, fingers outstretched, grabbing, snatching,
Suffocating everything in its empty press grasp,
Light all the candles, and beat out the night,
Flames spring from the hearth into the air, comforting heat meets my skin,
This house hold will have flickering flames that show us life, save us,
And,
They will remind us of the dawn, and the promises his fore coming light.