Suns Apart

Once a ballade upon chastised boughs, It's now finished on the clouds. And with their much too full skies, Its own scruples disappear; the strife While the sun of this morning goes— Steps behind lumps in sugar coats. No more a silver lineage, another crown— That is the new heart weathering now. I'm glue in bed; shook up the frame, Within window sights— a picture of the rain. Though the madness on curtains gone— There is no ghost to be of the sun. It would not pass through rain's skim, For a shine on an unfaithful whim. No place to stay on the soaking ground, Its lemon tears dry on the clouds. Dark times close for rainbows banished— Not coming down, it willfully vanishes.