I went outside to find the traces of the lost sunrise
That once shone like rubies in the darkening sky.
I found the dawn with embers of the wise
And asked them where I had to fly
To look for the forgotten lights of skies.
I went to were they pointed and found nothing
Just the stench of a pig sty.
I came back complaining about something
And they told me to not ask, "why?"
I thought about the sunrise
And wondered where it was.
Had it become the pig sty?
Or did it say goodbye?
I asked the wise embers
They said it turned into the sty
So I cried about these wonders
But was glad it didn' die.
I sat, wished and hoped
That the sunrise would come back
Its getting too lonely to cope
And the times seem so black.
Who really knows if we will see the sun
And who really seems to care?
Maybe the sun should rise alone
And for the sake of itself.
