Dawn

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Dawn

Dawn comes blithe yet broken,
Quartered by an imposing noise.
A redirection of sonic forces
Left in darkness for far too long.
The red mutation, blasting furnace,
Raping songs man’s never sung,
Splinters glass and human learning,
Canonizing the first angel’s fall.
Topaz waves in emerald seas,
Flood the mind with a gemstone’s sheen.
The ebbing flow erodes the soul,
But morning comes despite the song.

• What poetry should be

  by ZooeyGlass

  Posted Aug 20, 2008
  +4
  Before I start, I must confess something. I have absolutly no appreciation for nature. It has aluded me for most of my life. Show me a sunset or a beautiful river, a feild of daisies or a fawn, bending gracefully for a drink, and I could care less.
  
  Your poem engaged me. Thousands, ... (read more)

• Date Added
• Aug 20, 2008 at 10:18 AM
• Article Type
• Opinion
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• Poetry
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