Scripts of success

The evanescent night bid goodbye
as dawn peered through the raven.
Tingling with my tiny eyes,
it indolently pervaded over my belongings, as if a spy.
Disdainful of this spy, I was awake.
I grew enraged and I despised dawn,
after all, my treasure was lost,
not in the benign night, but in this compelling dawn.
Yes, I lost my dreams to this  nasty spy.
I was engulfed in my puerile delirium,
when the green rustling leaves,
the high flying garrulous birds,
the humane chaos,
the scattered yellow rays
and the pristine blue sky
exhorted me to embrace the rising dawn,
to mould the realm of my ebullient dreams into scripts of success.

Good Morning