Morning, a holy entity,
A call for the best,
After the soothing and tranquil rest.
Coming smoothly but a pacy creature,
Surrounded by aureole, holding the scriptures.
Chanting the prayers, nourishing a swan,
Invoking the Divine for the glorious dawn.
Quite and hallowed, working and sweating
Appealing us to listen the birds' tweeting.
All engrossed, ready for the blast,
Filled with a hope
For an infinite scope.