Does the sun exist? Beyond the shadow of a doubt. But not, perhaps, beyond the doubt of a shadow.
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 thing that supposedly gave me birth,
This lantern somewhere above,
Why do I never feel its warmth?
Where, for me, is its love?
How to my shadow do I respond?
How, when the day is done,
To a shadow vanishing into the night
Do you prove there exists a sun?
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