I hate morning birds

Birds herald the dawning of a new sun,
Less majestic,
Than the trumpeting flourish
Preceding a fallen emperor.
Beautiful nonetheless.

Fear grips the heart of
The listener.
Ridden with guilt for the theft
of the dark of night
In anxiety he waits.

The birds signal the new morning,
they prepare for a new day.
The one that greets them waiting,
to run to bed or brave it and stay...

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Here's the deal. It's 6 in the morning and I'm still awake, why? Because once again my procrastinating ass decided it would be a good idea to wait til the very last minute (I mean the very last, I'm not exaggerating here) to write my 3000 word essay. The birds piss me off.