The sun rises anew on an early August morning,
Brilliantly painting the sky in orange and red,
Clouds trying to hide the glorious display,
Outlined in fiery halos instead.
Putting to rest the sorrows of days gone by,
She ushers in the hope of a new day,
Greeting all with open arms,
Who stop to marvel at her array.
It's a twenty-one gun salute,
Respect to days who've met their death.
The blush of the morning sky,
Filling hopeful souls with their breath.
It's a new day now, and yesterday's gone,
Eclipsed are the sorrows of the past.
Hope rises brightly with the sun,
Promising better days ahead at last.
