One day someone asked me a question,
'why not just have fun and live happily?'
I said, 'because that would be selfish.'
He replied, 'everyone is selfish.'
I sighed.
That night, I slept as I always have
In the morning, the sun came out
looked around with a docile stance
he carried in him ember and fire
for some reason
The world was cold and thawed
the chill swept the earth all night
no body sang, no body spoke
no body was awake against the frost
the sun saw it all
Millions of bodies, even rocks and trees
Suckled on its warmth like its babies,
slowly opening their eyes to the morning,
coming awake as the heat kicked out
the numbness of night
The sun burnt its heart to produce
more and more fire for the world,
for many more tomorrows that he had
to tend to, for all that was sought by all
was his ardor
Sometimes, when the sun's heart ails
with its own searing burns and blues,
the blue ocean sends across to it, its coolest
wave, from the deepest corners of its heart,
borne on a zephyr
But oh, the burning world, under the fervency
of its own desires, seizes with excuses each
little effort the ocean puts forth, no consolation
ever reaches the sun, for those who it lives for,
need ever more
Each wind that passes by is never enough
for a world that is more esurient than destitute
all steal from the sun more than they need
all rob the breeze of its soothing touch
and the world lives on
Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 2:42 AM UTC
One day someone asked me a question,
'why not just have fun and live happily?'
I said, 'because that would be selfish.'
He replied, 'everyone is selfish.'
I sighed.
That night, I slept as I always have
In the morning, the sun came out
looked around with a docile stance
he carried in him ember and fire
for some reason
The world was cold and thawed
the chill swept the earth all night
no body sang, no body spoke
no body was awake against the frost
the sun saw it all
Millions of bodies, even rocks and trees
Suckled on its warmth like its babies,
slowly opening their eyes to the morning,
coming awake as the heat kicked out
the numbness of night
The sun burnt its heart to produce
more and more fire for the world,
for many more tomorrows that he had
to tend to, for all that was sought by all
was his ardor
Sometimes, when the sun's heart ails
with its own searing burns and blues,
the blue ocean sends across to it, its coolest
wave, from the deepest corners of its heart,
borne on a zephyr
But oh, the burning world, under the fervency
of its own desires, seizes with excuses each
little effort the ocean puts forth, no consolation
ever reaches the sun, for those who it lives for,
need ever more
Each wind that passes by is never enough
for a world that is more esurient than destitute
all steal from the sun more than they need
all rob the breeze of its soothing touch
and the world lives on
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