Stephen Shutters
the cycle
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The sun comes up and sneaks through the window
Pain's blinding me silently—warmth trailed by shadows
The moon is a cold, dead rock
The sun goes down—disappears in the night
Sky like pitch black quilting smothers with no fight
The moon is a cold, dead rock
The stars come out and with them bring hope
Full dreams emptied eventually with consciousness' lope
The moon is a cold, dead rock
The stars go in—retreat from the day
Light and troubles diurnal still cycle like Gray
The moon is a cold, dead rock