Ashes of the Sun

O awake sun,

Do not lie upon my bed—

Stay away from me,

For I fear the day

When my dark, cold body

Devours all your fiery locks,

And you, in your silence, freeze.

O eternal radiance,

Do not shine upon me!

I am the wolf of a night-stricken desert,

The raging waves of distant seas,

And a bottomless black hole in my heart.

Within me, a thirst burns—

Not for blood,

But for light.

A thirst to ignite a lantern

That sleeps within the endless cold of my being.

You burn, you melt,

Droplet by droplet,

You become water,

You become the sea,

And in me, you roar.

And the blazing lantern,

Deep within me,

Falls like a dying star.

In light,

Darkness finds no path.

In death,

No heartbeat remains.

In gravity,

No wing can take flight.

And my ocean,

Deep, cold, and silent—

Harbors no refuge for any lantern.

The sun flees from me,

The star within me goes out.

And I,

In your absence,

In a void of namelessness and darkness,

Gradually crumble.

I die,

I turn to ash,

I die again,

And again,

I turn to ash.