Morning comes

So at last, morning comes
finally, the more I miss the broken
After my nights.
Who could illuminate
a large window of heaven?
Now the light was shining down on the world.
Who would open the curtain of cloud,
and over the blind?

This is the day to write,
a change in the play.

I am swallowed up by all the
the words that come to town.
I slept for a century silent?
-blanket night shadows.
I want to throw these out
all the words too long
unspoken. The same rhythmic rhymes,
and passion to find me even more.
I'm so like a young wild goat,
ready for future large jump length.