Little pockets of scattered sunlight spread the earth,
And triumph over the harshest terrain in their wake.
A dualistic flower staring at the heartbreak
And the frustration of love and harmony’s dearth.
It is the day’s eye, surrounded by outstretched
White rays, beckoning to its disheartened guest.
“Do you love me, or do you not?” She protests,
Sobbing as the silvery collar is brutally threshed.
Oh, troubled beauty, get up and stand strong.
For new beginnings and hope will be granted,
To mend your broken heart and dispirited soul.
Night will soon pass, opening to the bird’s song;
As will you, sunray, who’s bright and enchanted
Will unfurl before the dawn, pure and whole.

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