Bright Suns

Oft have bright suns dawned up and blazed away

Outside the heave curtains of this room

And frolic beams have oft slipped into say

"What fool is this that fabricates a gloom?"

Light shall find cracks in any set of lies

And prove us fools for all that we devise

To turn out days and live within a lair,

A life of memories and dreams and sighs.

You'll dwindle to a spectre by this fast

And waste away but fail in your despair.

You cannot gain admittance to the past

By living death. You will not see her there.

The site you chase and ache to realise

Dwells now where suns can neither set nor rise.