A soft breeze to end the long solar reign,
Carrying with it my unbridled joy,
A mournful prodigy with life to gain,
Seeking my grey clouded shroud to destroy.
Foolishly appeasing the indolent,
Weaving a chorus of unsurpassed rage,
For the revolt of the great infinite,
Echoing across this desolate age.
They sing for the sun’s luminous return,
And I sense threats of my coming demise,
For its glossiness, through my shroud does burn,
For as they find life, my weary breath dies.
Forming a battle shield of smoky clouds,
I defy the call of the selfish sun,
As it marches onwards to greet the crowds,
And I prepare my fight, the only one.
They demand the sun to shine once again,
As I stream through scattering clouds with pride,
Smothering the mass in my mist of rain,
And taking the sun as my wartime bride.
