“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Saturday, August 29, 2015
Light cycle
The scalding star
bursting in beams
gives way, in due time
Tho not without a heated conflict
our only satellite set on high
sending signals where no one
can hide from the wrath and the aftermath
Both positions be known
observed and heeded
the dynamic cycle, black and white
from day to night
the changing of Our guards
who compose the length of our sentence
wardens we watch back.
Image by Henri Théophile Hildibrand [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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