So many stories written since the dawn of the day. Yet no assurance of a brighter ...

... night.
Unrevealed history fading into oblivion.

Even before the pandemic war, the future seem bleak.
The savage war came and it went all blank.
Unexplainable mystery behind the firmness of purpose.

In darkness, I heard phases of a verse.
A beacon of hope appeared to gaze the pages.

I tell my stories for a rising Sun. 💭