White The golden sun, a glowing sphere, Pierces through the mist so sheer. A hazy veil drapes the land, Soft and silent, vast and grand. Fields asleep in dawn’s embrace, Dreams still linger, slow in pace. Distant trees, like shadows tall, Whisper secrets none recall. A lonely wall, half-built, half-torn, Stands in silence, weather-worn. Concrete floor, so cold, so bare, Yet morning's breath lingers there. The world awakes in muted light, Fading stars bid soft goodnight. A moment caught in time so still, A gentle touch, a morning thrill. ©samandar Speaks #GoodMorning
