Waiting For Dusk

The sun has become the source of such anguish I wish it would obscure itself behind the clouds I long to see that lively flame extinguished. It is always there. I feel it burn through my pride. Reveals the ugly features I am trying to hide. The sun has become the source of such anguish. The mocking star that rises in morning Overstaying its welcome long into the evening. I long to see that blinding flame extinguished. The fervent day borne in moistened malaise Swelling over my sweating skin. Lately, The sun has become the source of such anguish. I dream of blackening the sky that holds it afloat Snuff out that light with no hesitation. I long to see that joyful flame extinguished. I sit alone with paranoia, beyond its stare, The shades drawn—hiding my face from the glare Of the sun that has become the source of such anguish. I long to see that flame extinguished.