Death of the Morning

August 15, 2008
By
breaking dawn
with thick brown hands
purple veins pulsing as
the purple clouds spill like blood from the sunrise
over strong, calloused hands.
bats seek shelter but are confused
by the dizzying decision
of returning to old habits and old homes
or seeking refuge in their savior
who slaughter dawn
their immortal enemy.
little do they know
tomorrow the sun will rise again
and already the hands are dying.

This will certify the above work is completely orginal. McKenna F. Kline





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