A soft breeze to end the long solar reign,

Carrying with it my unbridled joy,

A mournful prodigy with life to gain,

Seeking my grey clouded shroud to destroy.

 

Foolishly appeasing the indolent,

Weaving a chorus of unsurpassed rage,

For the revolt of the great infinite,

Echoing across this desolate age.

 

They sing for the sun’s luminous return,

And I sense threats of my coming demise,

For its glossiness, through my shroud does burn,

For as they find life, my weary breath dies.

 

Forming a battle shield of smoky clouds,

I defy the call of the selfish sun,

As it marches onwards to greet the crowds,

And I prepare my fight, the only one.

 

They demand the sun to shine once again,

As I stream through scattering clouds with pride,

Smothering the mass in my mist of rain,

And taking the sun as my wartime bride.

 

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