“The death of Morning” by Euodias Yeo

Descriptions: Night always seems darkest before the dawn, with this poem I wanted to add wonder and give shape to the musings of what differentiates yesterday and tomorrow. Carefree yet detailed descriptions try to capture the hazy feelings when one wakes up; the continuation of the dream. The particular phrase of “the death of morning” was chosen to signify the transition of both time and space as both transient and inevitable.

Stranger things lie awake When the universe stakes its place In a whole wide galaxy of stars Scattered silver but never gold Tell me if their flickering eyes turn cold
Morning hasn’t died yet
The romance of a thousand worlds Lying in the realms of paper and Sometimes glass Gives birth to the Moon’s cheshire cat grin
They say twilight runs in the family Stardust in your eyes, dreamers in your genes This is the witching hour you’ll see
Hues of dawn stir the pot My rose-coloured canvas I see it not In a whole wide galaxy, but of strangers and stars Comes together to stage a strange scenario in my head
Tick tock tick Tock Those aren’t the sound of the morning clock But the tales of my beating heart
Cold air, the lazy scent of intoxication Strangers come and go, wheels and cogs they make me dizzy Heaving, carrying rocks and dreams on their backs, Dancing across the corpse of yesterday night Tell me that Morning hasn’t died yet
The bell soon sings a requiem, as the minute hand curves gently until I see the asymptote of infinity
The lifespan of morning — It’s a strange thing



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