The gravity that holds the firm fields near
Flickered like the blue narrow spiraled sheets
It twists and turns the orb’s heavenly gears
As the Gods descend with their grateful fleet.
The yellow sun with quill in blazéd hand
She writes the manuscript of all the day
Her lucent brilliant light with yellow band,
It quells the monotone dead shades of grey.
There, deep in her quiet meditation
I wonder what it is that she may think
Gods with heavenly representation
May shudder at sight, daren’t think to blink.
Forlorn sad black sky, lit by the golden sun
‘Top transcendental tower, for no one.