The silent echo of the all but empty streets
whisper in a constant beat.
As the street lights dull to a muted haze
and people sleep, in the beds, where they lay.
Lonely skies that illuminate death, losing the fight
as the earth resets and the sky becomes light.
Birds singing for their morning feed
surviving through their most basic needs.
The silence broken,
as the world is woken.
A united front of human life,
death to the night,
with our metaphorical knives.
The silence has gone and been,
the morning glory by some was seen.
The world awakes
As the new day breaks.