The Death Of Night

Between this world and the next,
Where tomorrow beckons for lost souls,
I tread on platitudes of shattered dreams,
Unwavering, fixating on a new dawn.

Where tomorrow beckons for lost souls,
Monochrome shades of broken promises,
Looming with fear-gripping innuendo,
Stretch far off into the horizons of hope.

I tread on platitudes of shattered dreams,
Silhouettes and apparitions from a haunted past,
Reincarnate as paragons of a fated future,
My heavy heart beating with bated angst.

Unwavering, fixating on a new dawn,
Where seeds of hope were once sown,
Lay barren wastelands revealed by the first light,
Ushering a new day that devours the hopeful night.