Sun

Dictator of a dead grace
The sun rises in the sky
It was the same that rose when I was but a child
But now my heart is older
My temperature is blue
The heart that felt its sweet rays
Is not the same that once was new

It leaves its grace like scars of clouds
Upon the face of the sky
And it shall outlast everyone of us
While we each must die

Sun, of heaven, shine on
As a chariot of fire
Racing from the east to west
Crusading holy pyre

Beyond the thoughts of a boy
Who knows not his future joy
But stays in the present
Time for him is but a toy

Beyond this the great dictator
Climbs its elision tower
The spires of the heavens
Find him there never ready to cower

All the stark blankness
Come spilling from its face
That candles burn in the deepness
Of the outer space