the sun is a pining mess
it had never experienced love like this before
a kind of love that entered its dreams
a kind of love that leaves it wanting to stay awake
to see the moon's shy face
to see the moon's shy smiles
the sun had never before felt its heart sink as it set
had never before felt the urge to stay above the horizon
had never before felt the aching, burning sensation
that this kind of love brought with it
as if it had brought firewood to feed the flames bigger and bigger
it was agonising
yet the sun still continues to grin
maybe a little too bright
that the earth has to complain
and the sun would chuckle ever bashful
and it hides behind the mask of clouds, shy

the sun is a pining mess.