The sun, it shone just briefly,
Til shorted by a cloud.
That hung itself so rightly,
Resembling a shroud.

And there it stayed, suspended,
Without a peer in sight.
Clinging , oh so stubborn,
Playing god with light.

And the sun, on fixed eclipse,
Whose course is set just so,
Fell just but a victim to,
The mocking cloud below.

And after waiting in patient tense,
The sun decided to speak.
How is it you have affected me,
When you appear so weak?

Might you drift just a little,
So I may offer solace from the haze.
The seasons are quickly changing, you know?
And short are becoming my days.

Perhaps we are both just unable,
To alter this state, my friend.
Sometimes we must just wait, helpless;
At the mercy of the wind.