red dawn

the red dawn spreads
her fingers through the
sky with painful intention…
all that was, is lost
now to the fire that
lingers in her burning heart-
and while morning may
seem like fresh starts,
to dawn, the day is yet
made with the pain of
desires, un-flourished,
and silenced
only evidenced by the streaks
of red and yellow and pink that
paint her sky so solemnly

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