A chill lingers in the mist of early morn,
A scent of pinewood to the daybreak does implore,
I revel in thoughts of that which some may scorn,
Lying, lying on this mossy forest floor.
Corroded by waves of memories silent,
My soul in the depths of evident sighing,
In this raw passion of a storm so violent,
A calm within, that for me, Time is buying.
For in the same way that the moon inspires,
The dawn in it’s glory can too beguile,
No soul can speak of what, from the heart, transpires,
And in the wind your dreams have flown all the while.
Enamoured as I am by this hazy dream,
The Life within this life beckons to me, “come,”
And with the morning my beating heart does beam,
Into the light of Day I fly; my Welcome.
(C) Asteria Nyx