Every bird sings a conspiracy
fresh potential rising in the sky
a promise of something new
the day is an ember catching fire

Fresh promises like fresh dew
the morning, a stained glass window
flakes of golden Sol
sparks of Promethian fire

The morning breaks into the day
stars folded, tucked away
streaks of Sol-fire shatter the night
what matches the morning dawn ignite

Star splashed sky gives way
the promise of a new day draws open the curtain
as the eastern sky catches fire
each bird sings a conspiracy against the night