The Golden Stars
A limply stood yellow white sunflower,
What can he do except to stare?
A boldly stood yellow white sunflower
What can he do except to dare?
A sunflower embedded under an iron boulder
May him question the meaning of life and death
Who cares of his cold shoulders?
For they soon slip back into his fallen breath,
Roughly crushed by his guilt.
The sunflower embedded under an iron boulder
May him spear through with unharmed shoulders
Who cares of his grotesque pains and scars?
For they soon wear away to his golden stars,
Gently caressed by his sun.
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