The Tempest and the Sun

Even the skies above rupture at saturation.

leaving us standing in their laments,

blackened clouds relieve their sorrows,

merely vacating space for more

And the Sun mourns behind the grey,

silently crying because the weak

civilizations crave the life and light

and grow weary of misery

A star, I am not, when my light

fails to pierce your overcast horizon.

This Sun cannot presume heliocentricity

and blunder in illuminating