Morning Titan

As I laid in bed this morning, I watched as the sun emerged from behind the skyline. The Flaming Titan always makes a grand entrance; forcing the lingering touch of night to retreat underneath stones and bridges. The way his voice pierces the dew on the leaves is breathtaking, but i see past his posies of perfection. Deep down he knows that’s Madam does a much better job at spreading illumination than he does without exerting half the effort. He knows he can’t rise from his grave until she has stretched abscess yawned. Night can’t end and day can’t begin until Madam of pinkness hue has breathed her first breath of day
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