A new Dawn

The world is bleeding with light;

how the Sun dies every night,

its blood spilled on the moon

as we pull the trigger too soon;

tears shimmer lonely in the sky,

and I hear the world cry

with rain and flashing thunder

as I too start to wonder;

we kill her everyday anew

in her ocean of cloudless blue;

her dance of fire and frost

a lesson we have lost;

I fall down to my knees

as the last glimmer of life flees

from the barrel of my gun,

but she is not the Sun;

her dance has turned cold,

her steps slow and old;

her blood an earthly red

staining the pillows of death's bed.

Reviews

[Kruppz]

The next biggest thing in literature. The next Shakespeare, if you like.

[Acropolix]

Greatness in poetry is not created by the writer, but by the greatness the reader finds.

[Kruppz]

That's deep and such a sharp insight too!