When midnight strikes it chest at dawn,
none than early the final chapter of yawn.
The hope for sunrise burns within with an eruption,
fresh as breeze, innocent and free from corruption.
In moments conscience losses reign,
contaminated with thoughts of foreign.
Yesterday forgotten and erased below,
today's tomorrow will be another yesterday to know.
Prudent course if humanity has no hold,
an end of age awaits we were told.
Constant reborn of time, atmosphere and aim,
until then, genuiness is an endless claim.
© phenomenal°1