Awoken by birdsong, winds' gentle grace,
Rivers' rush and grasslands in delicate embrace.
Sunlight warm, in the air's sweet caress,
Another day dawns, despite dreams' darkness.
Welcoming the morning, a fresh start anew,
Though nightmares haunt, the day breaks through.
With courage, I face the day's bright gleam,
In the midst of dreams, I'll find my own theme.
YOU ARE READING
It's Still 12a.m.
PoetryAs the clock's final whisper embraced the dying day, darkness enveloped my room. Raindrops danced upon the fog-kissed windowpane. In the gentle glow of a dimmed lamp, I sat at my table, pen poised to capture the thoughts that flowed from the depths...
