<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=448376" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Dawning</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Each morning he would take a pick-ax to the Dawn, machete strokes anchored from the Decending Sickle Moon he, like Night, would show up with blood-red streaks on his ax and hack away at carving another day from a reluctant horizon, which flattened itself away trying not give him another day, trying indeed to conceal, Light and Hope from him.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All he had had to be fought for, pick-axed from scrabble ground and each day the sweaty effort his efforts had to be breach-born into the Light from the Dark.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Till that day, pick-ax in hand, he failed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He failed to bring even a meager dawn and he sat despondent thinking this was the end, the end of all had come to this.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sitting at his side Despair whispered to him, 'Are you seeing that this is end? Are you willing to embrace me, kiss me on the mouth? '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Despair was beautiful and a part of him loved her so. Some many times he had lain with her, no wallowed in her arms and found comfort there.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here she was again, at his side, telling him to lay his head in her lap, take some comfort there and once again some part him asked 'What is the use? <br>Depression and Despair twin sisters these two were more familiar to him than his own family who for the most part were unaware of his turmoil, his daily travals, his agonies.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And he took a deep breath ready to succumb when music came. Some one was playing music. He looked up to see the twins wide-eyed, their eyes betraying fear, and yes, Despair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He looked around to see who was making the music when suddenly it stopped as she rose from the Pick-Ax Dawn walking, no floating toward them, a slight musical strain in the air as Despair and Depresson stared at her apparition waning in the growing light each looking from him to her, both finally saying as they left, 'We'll be near if you need us.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She of the dawning light drew nearer and stopped twenty feet in front of him falling silent.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He said 'Who are you? '</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Lonnie+Hicks">Lonnie Hicks</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=448376" data-title="Dawning de Lonnie Hicks" data-description="Each morning he would take a pick-ax to the Dawn, machete strokes anchored from the Decending Sickle Moon he, like Night, would show up with blood-red streaks on his ax and hack away at carving another day from a reluctant horizon, which flattened..."></div> </div> </div>

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