Dethroned and Exiled
If evermore this must last,
Through the warmth of sun's wrath,
Holding onto the memories of last,
The frightening night of cold's decline.
Humming the tune of ancestors past,
Hoping this will burn out at last.
Pulling the lever to refer,
The old prophecy's prefer,
For this cold world's end
And to find a hero to mend.
To put off the sun, To prevent the heat.
To revel with him, And to reserve a seat
Beneath the stars and to flee
To motherland Neptune and conquer the sea.
Copyright © Bommi Shivani | Year Posted 2022
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