The sun may one day set on man For all the things done by his hand Most of which are good and gay But some which only wither or decay
A world once new, born from a star The same observing from afar As the mortals down below Chaos, reap, and discord, sows
This star is worshipped for a time Meager offerings and shrines It doesn’t care for mankind’s gifts As time revolves the sunlight lifts
Now this world is bright with flame Lit up, not one lone man to blame They’ve learned that sunlight, yet sublime Must be harnessed, held and primed
A live grenade of solar beams Within man’s hand, and thus he deems It’s time to start the end of Earth And destroy with sun, all creation, henceforth
And still the sun watches from beyond As humans slaughter their own blood The sun’s grown weary as it sees As man squanders the light it brings
The sun one day may set on man And yet it brightens scarred, torn land As even though it’s worn away The sun always rises, day after day
Yet is the word that can be used For any moment that one will choose.
Yet is the word that leaves some hope To those lost in its endless rope.
Yet is the word that catches one’s breath As it alludes to a moment of death.
Yet is the word that tears shed upon it During one’s grievance of life’s hit.
Yet is symbolic in its own way Every situation getting a play In how to properly share a message With a different kind of image.
On all the streets, the cars will honk And crash and screech While watchers gawk And pigeons squawk
Thoughts try to speak above the din Come out as shrieks When louder wins “That’s kinda cringe”
Yet it’s quiet in my alleyway, at break of day, I’d like to stay.
The buildings block the poison clouds That hide the sun Unseen by crowds Used to their shrouds
Earning their name, homes scrape the sky Those small boxes Muffle our cries And echo sighs
Yet it’s bright here in my alleyway, at break of day, I’d like to stay.
The moon is rendered obsolete When flourescents Hang over streets Where no one greets
Under the smokey, hazy sheen Of cement life With metal gleam We all look green
Yet it’s fresh here in my alleyway, at break of day, I’d like to stay.
