In the dead, dreary day,
My souls at last can weep.
For when the sun comes up,
I am drowning in its deep.

How dare it try and pretend,
That it's a godsend.
When I can clearly see,
The pain it's done to me.

But alast, I cannot tear myself away,
For never have I felt this way.
Always will it be forgiven,
Because of my longing for the forbidden.

At night I see this sun the most,
It a loving memory and my heart it's host.
For in my dreams a past treasure lies,
Shining out, clear to my eyes.

This sun I speak of not a sun at all,
It merely being the cause of my fall.