New

On the morning of a new heart,

When the heart decides to be clean, the fixture of brokenness,

The new beginning of the sunrise,

For life has to be continued.

The whispering of a quiet voice,

The healing of the wounded lion,

The shading of a faded tree, for it's rooted in the river,

Sun has not been brighter when in darkness.

After then I have a question to ask myself,

Can a new day start without the end of the old?

The beauty of the rock lies on the spot,

A wounded lion learned a new lesson

The bruises teach a sensation to the nerve,

Just like the new root.