Dawn comes early, 
Like those dark hours 
That disappear when you 
Least expect them to. 
When your life has gone 
All wrong, and something 
Good happens for no reason.

Dawn comes quickly, 
Yes, like the grains of sand 
Through an hour glass, 
When you had what you needed 
Before you knew what it was, 
Or knew that you needed it.

Dawn comes regardless, 
Not heeding your denial 
To be awakened from the nightmare, 
Not stopping cause the world has ended, 
Nor being as small as a universe 
Wrapped in a small realm.

Dawn comes when I need her. 
And yes, she knows that too. 
Fully aware of my heart and 
How fragile it has become, how much 
Of me can be consumed by her eternal 
Flame, so . . . . .

I need her now. 
Like I need the air I breathe, 
Like I need the blood in my veins, 
Like I need my heart, not just to push 
The flame of her through me, 
But to save my soul.