The sun is in my eyes,
she cries -
the girl, blind,
had looked behind to find
the yellow fire in the sky.
Her soul was lit but sight to die.

The sun, he reaches
every flowers,
breaches all the hours,

kisses life,
cuts like a knife
into the unsuspecting eyes
of nature's guise.

he knows no end
and no beginning;
envies those fickle stars and their fangled singing;
The sun is fire, surrounded in the ice
of ever nice,
solitary planetariums -

he finds and blinds
without reminds
that time and space
shall soon replace
his bright existence.