Before Each Day

At this hour, before the dawn, the alarm bell is yet to ring.

The dreams play tricks, those memories from the past still cling.

In that brief moment, when I wake, there’s no memory not a thought.

Knowledge and experience suspended, all that has been taught.

All now is dark and still. No one moves. There is no sound.

Indistinct images deceive my eye. No colour here is found.

What day is this? No recollection yet of what the diary dictates.

Consciousness is still absent, no memories yet of loves or hates.

This is that quiet time, yet to be conquered before the dawn,

Before the regrets, before the sadness, no excuse to be forlorn.

It is the hour of loneliness of feeling solitary on this globe,

Before the burden of the day bears down to infiltrate and probe.

Suddenly I am aware with thoughts flooding to my brain

Of worries, concerns. This brief peaceful time so swift to wane.

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