This Sun you speak of, my shadow asks,
This invisible light in the skies,
Why does it never reveal itself?
Why does it hide from my eyes?
This Heavenly Thing that created me,
This lantern somewhere above,
Why do I never feel its warmth?
Where, for me, is its love?
And what to a shadow does it mean
To be born of some mystical Light,
If only to fade at the end of the day
And vanish into the night?
No comments:
Post a Comment