A Sun

A sun shines with surreal serrations,
‘Til night pulls its shades,
Sucks life, stills movement,
Slides sleep soundlessly
Into mindless minds.
Souls slip their sheets,
flying free,
Wondering where the wheels of light spin,
Following fallow flights and flecks,
Waiting to be woken
By a sun’s sharp edges,
Blinding in its brightness,
Burning in it’s bowl
Until fully burnished, blows itself out.

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