Oh sun, oblate.
You mark me with your scouring eye,
envelop me, wholly, in beaming arms of succor.
Why seekest thou to undo my sorrow?
How the essence of your heat
bubbles furiously in my soul!
Wake me not, I plead.
Night's blanket enfolds
and nurtures my anguish.
Why, now, must the face
of the sun be let to burst upon my bosom?
If tears must exist, must be spilled,
may they manifest fully within thine own eye,
and not mine, ever again.
Please. Oh, please, may mine own eyes
remain desert-dry, for the moisture is much
more than I can hope to endure, again. Forever.
You mark me with your scouring eye,
envelop me, wholly, in beaming arms of succor.
Why seekest thou to undo my sorrow?
How the essence of your heat
bubbles furiously in my soul!
Wake me not, I plead.
Night's blanket enfolds
and nurtures my anguish.
Why, now, must the face
of the sun be let to burst upon my bosom?
If tears must exist, must be spilled,
may they manifest fully within thine own eye,
and not mine, ever again.
Please. Oh, please, may mine own eyes
remain desert-dry, for the moisture is much
more than I can hope to endure, again. Forever.