The sun unfolds, precisely peeking through
the light of stars, dominating ink-spilled nights.
Its rays graze softly on blooming wounds
as sirens set off warnings of incoming dunes.

O vulnerable soul! I pray you stay quiet,
hold dearly onto the kaleidoscopic life
slowly flowing out of your diluted sight.
O transient time! I pray you stay still for a while,
and let the sediments settle—
as the river carries away what's old and vile.

There will be another dawn.
When the sun unfolds again,
its light grazes softly on wounds withered with time.
As sirens hail warnings of unknown threats,

O powerful mind! I pray (and know) you'll never fret.