The Sun You Forsook
Peer at your reflection, see with their eyes,
the bloom of roses in soft, downy cheek.
Rigid, cold looking glass, no warmth to seek.
All life must wither and the moon must rise.
Each believes they hold to the pastel posy.
Change begins with frigid wind of slate gray.
Turn then, to me, see your soul's eternal day.
I, blind to time see you forever rosy.
In beauty you bask in each longing look.
Though your surrounded, each eye is your own.
Clouds of admiration but ever alone.
When night falls, I'll be the sun you forsook.
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