Nighttime weeps as it passes away,
gives up its life to the newborn day.
No mourners stand on grassy knolls,
no flags are lowered, no bells toll.
Its death unnoticed, fades away
and leaves frozen tears on fields of hay,
Icy dew on cold hard grass,
all that's left of darkness past.
Of all the splendor that I've seen,
none can match this glistening,
and as the sun kills the night
my eyes are shot with laser light.
A million diamonds, mine for free.
That picture lasts an eternity.
But only fleeting is the sight
of frozen prism's fire light.
To soon the sun has stole the tears,
dried from the grass the tiny mirrors,
but the suns not here to stay
night ‘s reborn at the death of day.