The Mighty In His Day

I am an early riser, right or wrong,
and I face dawn with all my light
already blazing, pure and strong,
and I walk alone out of the night.

Yea, and through morning I stride
like a giant, a Colossus unmatched,
a Titan in strength, no equal beside,
’til the lock of noon’s unlatched

by my single mighty hand alone,
by me, myself, I. I do my thing,
and I stalk alone the afternoon,
and hunt, myself, my own evening.

When over the corpse of day I see
my slow, dark night begin to bend,
then, then does your loss begin, for me.
There’s where I break, and how I end.

 

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