I wrote this one a while back, before my perspective of the world became more complex. The main idea of this poem is relatively simple: A rising sun is a metaphor for good times, and a setting one for the bad. Still, I thought I’d put this here because a lot of the poems I wrote so far are meant to be a timeline of how my ideas developed.
Subject change. There was a time in my life when I was suffering from an internal demon. It was disguised as a thought, a passion, and it gave me false feelings of elation and warmth. But I knew the deceptino behind those feelings, and just knowing the evil behind it left me upset. It left me with mixed feelings, which I didn’t know how to resolve. Then once during a run, while I stopped to catch my breath, I could observe a beautiful sunset ahead of me. And in a metaphorical sense, I saw a correlation between that sunset and my current struggle…and at that moment, I knew just what to write about.
When the sun rises,
My world is full of surprises
The foremost infant rays peep out
Bold and true, spreading the faith and joy
For us to enjoy.
At that, my soul yearns a smile
Spreading my utmost ecstasy, from mile to mile!
Flying like an arrow does my loving laughter
I want to live on this earth forever after!
Skip, laugh, the world may leap;
I’m soaking in all the beauty I can seep!
These are the good days, the ones
That shine on us like a million suns
Prove the world your reasons to grin
Your hope shall fully win
That’s how my world consists of surprises
When the sun rises.
When the sun sets
My world is full of regrets
Creatures of the air tuck in their wings; good night!
The fading sun hides out of sight
Luck isn’t here to shine on me
Pitch-black is all I see.
My mood dips down to the bottom slide
There is naught a smile so wide
This ere clammy gloom infects everyone
For gone out of our lives is that essential sun.
My world eclipses,
Those gloomy days — they leave a scar, a mark!
Some days are like that one,
Some of us need a sunny bliss to come.
Yet — days do need rest, to sleep.
All the world is still, not even a peep.
That’s how my world consists of sunsets,
How we sometimes have regrets.