The Passing Of Day
Moon fades so soon through the silent night's sleep,
And its subsequent death opens sky's face
Anew to the bright atmosphere asleep,
With none seen note its transitional trace...
The passing of day,
As swift as blinking eyes' sway...
Without no delay.
The distant darkness covering heaven's eyes,
Is but a passing cloud of essence last...
Night functioning dust left to stars demise,
Romancing the moon's ray cum slippery blast.
The passing of fear,
As deafening as hopeless cheer,
Without doubt to tear.
Worrying time starts its run staring at night;
Decaying day wish for more hours long...
To level up stretched meters with might,
Uncovered desired endless pursuit's wrong.
The passing of chance,
As briskly as likely trance,
One could hold advance.
The reckless guest of power shines afternoon,
To make room for a gentle good night's bed,
When a lazy morning don't haste for moon...
Soon than necessary to fight off Sun's head.
The passing of fate,
As slow as a snail to wait...
Its fulfilling date.
Rain could not have cried the face of sky's hell,
If not the swollen eyes of heaven mourns
For saints haste has led astray that don't yell...
Of redemption before dry season horns.
The passing of grace,
As late as hunter's game chase...
That last like court's case.
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