A story of spheres,
I'm wondering who fathered who; in the darkest
kisses all under this moon.
Oh, is the truth as clear under the sun, in the eyes
of the lonely son? Daily are the games of fun, running
away from troubles. Chasing a shot to success, like we're
all chasing a gun.
But I'm into changing thought. Like the days
that must come and go. Everything changes under
the sun that kisses the Earth.
But in all the wonders of the sky, and it's reason
and wonder. It all begs this question of, "why."
In this night, his lover is so bright, gazing upon
all of her lightness. She slowly fades out of his sight.
Wedded to his only bride, days setting,
kissing her goodnight; every time he brings
her a good morning. Saying hello as she's saying
goodbye; hurting him more in their only first sight.
Feels like a similar to my life.
"You're a pretty flower I can't hold,"
he sighs, just pondering at her marvel,
"Of the sweetest of things to behold;
you're always the one touched by my light,"
his love reflects, watching it all go to another.
"Why so, must I be allowed to watch;
as you're shining it upon my brother,"
as the story of spheres goes.
Alas, I'm often the son of the sun, in these daylight
thoughts. Anger burning my skin's surface;
but what comes in between happiness and self worth?
Successes of things I'm still chasing from birth, and
running around in three interlinked circles.
I just go back to myself in the first verse.
Again into daylight thoughts.
