by herbalwolf » Mon Mar 02, 2015 10:39 am
Voltaire started to sing another song:
Ask not the sun,
Why she sets....
Why she shrouds her light,
Away....
Or why she hides her glowing gaze,
When night turns crimson gold,
To grey...
For silent falls,
The guilty sun.
As day to dark does turn,
One simple truth,
She dare not speak:
Her light can only blind and burn...
She trailed off, sighing.