The Hour Before Dawn

The Hour Before Dawn

In the hour before dawn the curtain of security has been stripped away. The sky breathes momentary light into a dark room encompassed in shadow. Shadows of the past and the future mingled together in twisting forms of anger, acceptance and accomplishment. Fear strikes as easily as the bolts of lightning breathing light into the all too quiet room. Sleep is no longer the most important mission of the night. Survival in the shadow seems impossible.

The sound and visions of impromptu visitors make sleep a faraway dream. Doubt and Insecurity take fight and propel her to run to the nearest safety net. The net is gone. No Longer shielding her from momentary lapses of memories to hard to handle. The cage which held her safe has opened and left her disquieted. No where to run to. No longer able to hide her misery and

Misunderstanding of her own fears the shadows play hard mind games with no option to win. A struggle ensues between darkness and light. The winds howl their discontent and sweep across the area called home, bending branches to their will. Creating long bony arms of terror trying to steal the light away.

Crashing wildly, the shadow, wind and lightning seemingly play a symphony of battle right in the dimly lit room. Visions of hopes and dreams suffer in the reality of the mind. What tricks light can play on the unsuspecting soul. The battle of decision plays along the shoreline of insanity. Pulling this way and that way along the rise of forgotten dreams. Wave upon wave of emotion, hidden and kept tightly wound, spills out its heart begging for acceptance and security to return and let elusive sleep regain control.

In the Hour of dawn the sky quiets. The wind slows, lightning bellows one last time, shadows slip away unnoticed, Doubt and Insecurity take a back seat as dawn beckons to the sunrise. Sleep suddenly is welcomed into the arms of a too quiet room as if the storm of her dreams never happened. The hour before dawn is always the darkest.

Sunamoon
© 7/13/08