literature

Blame it on the Morning.

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Timothi-Ellim's avatar
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Literature Text

Eyes open to a new day,
brightness still held at bay
at the horizon of dawn. 
Pulled by chariots of gold,
the sun ascends to its rightful place,
casting its orange ire 
upon our gleaming spires
of glass and steel. 
On roads, lingering with the night
and the waste of our world, 
we trudge towards the start of our lives
with hearts closed and mouths too muted to speak out
at the approaching atrocities that will greet us today. 
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