There are two suns that rise every morning
One scorching red and the other its reflection
Skirting and hiding behind clouds and sky

There are two suns
And once the dawn breaks
Only one of them will burn
Taking with it all the beauty
Taking with it all the pain
The sorrow, joy and the cries
Both of laughter and of grief

There are two suns
And before them lies a wasteland
A cemetery of barren lives
Neglected dreams and withered loves
And when one sets
So shall the other rise
For there is no darkness here
But only light.

And with them comes the quietude
Were it that we had a shadow
With them come the failings
The endless outpour of time
Were it that we had some peace
For in the torrent – No. The torment.
For in the torment, of heat and of light
Were it that we had some solitude
Some faith, deliverance…
In the torrent…

Silence.

No sound strikes more hollow than that of an echo. And in the darkness, no comfort shall we find. Only an eternal longing for the burning, blinding, light.