The sun is sane, pure as his light—
Always beaming about certitudes,
Wearing his indigo robe speckled
With old stars— a jewel in the sky.
The earth is but in lone upheavals,
With only friend of desolate moon,
Crowned with bugs, buzzing on fire
And all is madness— under the sun.
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 7:52 PM UTC
The sun is sane, pure as his light—
Always beaming about certitudes,
Wearing his indigo robe speckled
With old stars— a jewel in the sky.
The earth is but in lone upheavals,
With only friend of desolate moon,
Crowned with bugs, buzzing on fire
And all is madness— under the sun.
