The Sun

In the hot rains that were once my glory
I taste only salt
And in the scorching winds across which I sent golden embers
To coat the world in a cloak of shimmering beauty
There now drifts only the ashes of what I once was
And can never be again

It perhaps would have been better
Had I slogged across the ground
Knowing none but the acrid flavor of burnt soil on my tongue

But I could not help to rise into the heavens
And was not spared the awesome vista of the glittering firmament spread before my arms
Its countless fiery orbs arranged across my alabaster skin as if they were but gems for my adornment

Now I bear the agonizing vision
Of the empyrean at the pinnacle of its fragile beauty
When I rivaled the sun for brightness
And made even the night a blazing twilight of eternal summer

Before I fell
Was hurled from the throne of stars
Before the light that illuminated the sky was torn from my veins
And I was left discarded
To grace the field as a common weed

The earth is brittle here
The clouds a mockery of dullness
To one who once commanded them

My midday fire is receded from everywhere
But my memory
Where it lingers in horrific greatness
To remind me of my unworthiness
And of all I lost