A Waking Dawn

Night now thunders the lost dawn's wake.
The skies resist the light's embrace
As sapphire clouds of troubled times
Climb silver curtains of dew enshrined.

They face the sunlight in the air,
Fight to shatter beams whose arms ensnare.
The shrouds release the film of self
And so their form begins to melt.

In solemn tears that kiss the land
The dark retreats, his shield disbands.
The spears of light pierce far and wide
In jagged beams that pierce his side.

Thus he falls to terror's rise.
The day declares his swift demise,
And in the shadow's last embrace
Dawn now thunders the long night's wake.
what if there are only two types of graffiti;
your name and rebellious art?

what if my picture of silence
resembles two surgical gloves
approaching a heart?