Do not be fooled;
the sunrise is not beautiful.
It is not a wash of light
from a pastel brush,
nor a bar of silence in a symphony.
It is a cacophony of noise,
roiling a turmoil,
racing the River Styx in barbaric joy.
Kings’ crowns made molten gold
erupting from the barren earth,
the oil lifeblood derived from death,
come to fight the relentless dark.
“Sunrise” by Molly Crighton (Year 10 Columba College).