Wake to greet the early morn
Come sweeping through the clouds adorned
With silver lace and white surface
The angels blow their crystal horns
Wake dreamers from their silent nights
Realization bites. From great heights
The eagle cries, "hold on, hold on."
For when its bleak theres hope in hoping
But we try coping and we confuse
Come mellow sounds from winter bells
And sorrows bleed profuse.



walawala.