Morning Walk

As the day dawned
I strolled out of my slumber.

Bare-footed on the misty grass,
I walked slowly, softly.

The cold morning light
washed me down,
and rid me thus
of the fatigue of sleep,
and the crushing burden
of my inflated self.

Countless morning birds
sang a sweet morning song
into my bruised ears,
and hushed out the resident torment,
of my neighbour's hateful banter,
of yesterdays, yestermonths, yesteryears.

And in the castle of my ailing heart,
love's imposing citadel arose,
and suffocating in its splendor,
perished vengeance, and hate,
and my innate, crippling fears.

From the rippled surface
of the nearby lake,
my reflection shone and glittered
and winked at an awestruck me.

My ugliness lost
in the effervescence of the new me,
it whispered a million 'thanks'
for the scar that wasn't there,
and all that, that was there.

And with the dawning day,
I strolled out of my anger,
I strolled out of my hunger,
I strolled out of my slumber.