Pristine Dawn
Could it be that I was wrong, last I wrote?
Of love compared to the eve, I had spoke.
This passion isn’t the night, from my last note.
Let me fix this now by pen's graceful stroke
Darkness beaten back by the rising sun.
A formless world captures imagination.
Swirling mists veil truths of the day just begun,
Hazed light filters down the powers of creation.
Newborn dawn, brings to life those slumbering.
Awakening things from the deepest depths.
Enthused creatures rise and commence singing.
Inspired by their song, day now begins.
You see, the morn, pristine and mysterious,
It is our young love, the morn, it is us.
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