The Wicked Dawn

The day breaks, once again,

To cast its shadow of routine

Upon the chaotic night

That has passed

It brings with it new life,

It brings routine

Routine brings decorum,

And decorum brings pretentiousness

And pretensions become escape routes

We have become a faceless being
Routine having had the better of us


I am not a woman by day
I am what I should be
Routine is what they see
There's more that I could be

My heart heaves in the dark of the night
By night,when no one can see

It screams and howls
For by day, routine got the better of me

As the night falls, its not the same
As the dark takes over,
I see her rise
A beast
Burning like a flame

Her fierce fires
Her blazing flames
Burn all that caused her pain

The pain of belonging
The pain of longing
The pain of time

Desires driven by boldness
Desires hidden by shame

I see her dance in her fire
Prancing, leaping, reaching higher

Mooning over her moon,
Swaying like a loon,
Mind numb as my eyes swoon,
As I watch her move in her raging gloom.

Now as she swings her arms
One last time
With a final glimpse
Of the enigma in her prime
I pull myself away
Only to unite with her another time.



The dawn breaks once more
Dew drops washing away the amber of the dark
With the water so pure
The sanctum of emotion
I let them heal me
i let them flow
I let them flow


And as the heart is numb again
With all the water flown
I lift my eyes
and with a glare
Welcome the wicked dawn.

-the purplemonk