the sun sits half-mast on the horizon,
succumbing to time,
trudging over the world
with the little strength it is left with.
Fighting to shoot out,
and shine its effervescent light,
like a soldier heaving along after a weary day of war.
As night invades
all hope is lost,
each beam is put to rest,
to refuel for the next day.
He goes to sleep,
not knowing the matters of the world as he lies,
only to be brought back to the same warzone,
day after day.