Suffer


The Sun claws at my day, drawing from it what I cherish 

I suffer in the light while people pray for the illumination of the world

Each day is hard, the Sun is ruthlessly bold 

For even in its majestic glory, I feel cold. 

This is just a play of words, a farce to keep me going 

Yet I feel the Doom, the air reeks of its rotting smell 

These vague emotions tire me out, feed the gloom that serves the day 

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