Dawn

Dawn short poem

Dawn is here
end of night.
Depends on you
to make things right.
In my mind, but
out of sight.
The time is now
to start the fight.
Dawn is here
behold the light.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Shaurya Singh

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
Shaurya Singh refuses to call himself a poet, an artist, playwright, or a filmmaker although he writes poetry, paints, writes and directs plays and also makes short films. His work also includes working closely with and coaching people who want to take charge of their lives and create the life that they desire. His vision, he says is the creation of a community of people who will passionately build an alternative lifestyle based on emerging new-age principles. He is the co-founder of Saarthak Productions, a theatre group based in Bangalore. Some of his poetry and paintings are featured on the blog A Formless Formation.
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

1 Comment on "Dawn"

Notify of
avatar
Sort by:   newest | oldest
Editorial Board
Member

One poem you can chant like a prayer every morning.

wpDiscuz

Dawn And Dusk

Dawn And Dusk short poem

Dawn Every time I think to take rest forever, Every time you come, To wake me up, To give purpose to my path. Dusk You are not the only one at spot, Even I need to grow adjunct to absolution,

A New Dawn

A New Dawn prose poem

A New Dawn Justice Eluded her But she was On Run Till last gasp But soon surrounded The foul air Lies and deceit Confusion thicken With Past ,pre past links of delinked Whither the path? Now energy lost Treading forward

Dawn Left Bare Bones

Dawn Left Bare Bones short poem

Dawn left bare bones Gave her his cruel temper, he, whom no one had ever loved Virgin’s blood shed not for pleasure but for body senses lust Flare of fire, modern world burnt Fugitives from Orion hide on Milky Way

A Departing Dawn

A Departing Dawn prose poem

It is the crimson dawn. I know him since stars traveled away and never came back; his voice is silence, his walk glee of birds, his taste the sigh of earth, his fingers a chill. Every day I watch him

The Dawn

The Dawn short poem

The sun rises softly Through the dawn Announcing daylight Slowly shining over Forests and woods Birds singing and chanting Under the azure hood A symphony of love Joyous tunes in the air The earth is filled With the power of