My first time posting one of my pieces online, might keep posting more if this receives feedback

A Different Dawn

Most people associate dawns with renewal, hope and enlightenment. But for a minority of people, dawn never represented those. It represented the perpetual cycle of suffering, the recurring end of each beginning, and the continuity of burden. In their eyes, dawn will never be the deliverer of salvation, only the messenger of cruelty.

When others notice the shadows climb over the balcony parapets, they notice the fading moon. When others appreciate the arrival of dawn, they despair at the reality of another recurring burden, like a beautiful candle that deserves to be relit, but doesn't want to burn again. Many may see beauty in the rainbow halos around a candle's light, but for them, that halo is what burns them. None would see it the same way unless the hot wax dripping down were theirs.

Sometimes, I do wish that the dawn would never come. It never reminds me of a new beginning. Whenever the clock strikes the golden hour, I'd know, it'd be another day of relentless burdens weighing heavier than the day before. It'd be a dark chasm that keeps swallowing, instead of clouds that pull me up.

Yet, the dawn is never merciful. It always comes back. It never turns an eye to the descending moon, because all it knows is how to look forward. Its rays don't shine for hope. It shines because it doesn't want the darkness to stay. It's a selfish monarch that keeps on burning away pages of the past, only inscribing lines of hope onto the new pages for those who anticipate its upcoming lines.

Every dawn I see is different. I'll never know the hope that others see in that blinding light. Only the reality that keeps on twisting the knife further every time. I'll never revere the new lines of hope it writes. Only the truth that hope is only deception coated in warmth. Maybe hope was never meant for those who know the world all too well.