The smoky gray skies,

Barely light enough to see out of my eyes.

The wispy hot breeze,

gently scraped my knees.

I turn to the right,

the trees are full of starlight.

A single palm tree leans,

the lonesome starlight gleams.

Although the tree is strong,

all the others are long gone.

Much like me,

alone in my misery.

Yet a new wind blows,

as the blossoms grow.

It still is dark,

but here is the mark,

Of a new dawn,

the sun rising over the lawn.