The dawn breaks in amber and fire, coral and gold with streaks of coppery wire. Gently lulled, the greenery wakes, bathing to the glorious reds. So slow and steady they unfurl their limbs, such soft and dainty, pretty things. The Ferns and Flora of Tippin’ Peak, all rouse awake after their slumbers of deep.

He sets the sky like a hand on a stage, like an artist would on his page. Chasing the blues of the sleepy night, he brings to awaking a powerful sight. Bright and blinding to all who sees, yet mesmerizing, was the richness of his golden stead. All six a-strung to draw his chariot, across the dark that lightened with fire.

At his approach, the cold does melt, icy air burned to a crispy sound. Glorious is his warmth that embraces the land, gently rousing all to wake to a promising, new Earth.

“Oh beating life, awaken now! For the Prince of Dawn is making his daily route!”

So below, the Fey – they get into much the fuss, primping themselves in hopes to catch his princely glance. They spread out their lush, and curling hair, fan out and stand tall and fair. All vines wrapped around their sensuous form, curves and stick all out and tall. The excitement vibrates, in a hum and drum, sizzling like the air droplets upon his muscled arms.

Oh woe the mortals who could not see the sight, for the Sun Prince of Morn, is a lavish sight. Glowing skin of Sahara sand, and hair of golden peach blossoms from luscious lands. His torso a board of sculptured pebbles, gleaming like linear light from an adobe effect’s palette.

Proud he stands so lively in the morning, hips barely clothed by translucent, erotic clothing. So graceful the way he drove his chariot, running across the sky on the westward flight. The nearer he comes, the more the frenzy arises, those little green folk clamouring for his golden irises.

All sing the praises of the First Prince of the Sun Kingdom, as they rise every morning to his ascent up the sky. Blessed they are for their mystical blood, which bore a stop that was his must. Along the sail of his morning trek, he descends upon them like a holy gem.

“O Dawn, Dawn! How majestic you are, might you grace us with your heavenly palms!”

He smiles so brightly, knowing his effect, yet remained modest and humble, for the mornings were too early for the waywardness of flesh. Yet the little he could do, was to humour their wishes, spreading a palm, all long fingers tingled with brightness. Sunrays extended from his elegant digits, stroking the crowns of the magnificent canopy.

All the Greens sparkled like resplendent pearls, bidding his praise for his lovely worshippers. Little does he know, there was one small one, who crowded not among the Nature Elementals.

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Additional Notes:

PS: The commas serve as a sort of break, a little bit like poetry reading style.

It reads by paragraphs split into 4 main sentence, each sentence with a split into 2 breathing more lines with a rhythmic pause in between. (sorry I'm not not explaining it correctly because I'm no poetry master lol)

To make it more clear, take the 1st para below as an example for the reading pattern:

"The dawn breaks in amber and fire,

coral and gold with streaks of coppery wire.

Gently lulled, the greenery wakes,

bathing to the glorious reds.

So slow and steady they unfurl their limbs,

such soft and dainty, pretty things.

The Ferns and Flora of Tippin’ Peak,

all rouse awake after their slumbers of deep."

Makes sense? =3

The structure breaks only when it comes to dialogues where I try to follow writing rules and start it in a new paragraph.