Age of a New Dawn

--by Garrett Berg

The dawn breaks upon his face,

His feet shudder, shake

He stares at the sky, blank

Stars vanishing in the light

-

He grasps his gun with his might

Holds it close, tight

His hands tremble, fright

Blood staining his fingers

-

His color draining,

His strength small, waning

His will gone, breaking

Where to go? Where to go?

-

What must he dare

To obtain his passion, care?

His friend dead, despair

What is it worth?
-

He despises his own birth

Cursing the ground, earth

It gave him life, birth

They stole it

-

What had been their goal?

Was it his spirit, soul?

Was it power, control?

He hated them

-

They had dictated

What he invented, created

He left, vacated

His feet fled

-

His friend lay dead

On his natural grave, bed

His eyes empty, soul shed

Gone.

-

His gun shines in the new dawn

It has started, begun

Nothing will stop him, none

From finding the dawn