Passing Glory

I miss the warmth of the radiant sun,
The skies power to enrich,
All things that were once done,
And all things I wish I had fixed.

I miss the colour of the reflection,
The glass, its longing to fulfil,
All things of departed passion,
And all things I wish I could tell.

I miss the casual being of yesterday,
The purity and innocence,
All things that refused to fade,
And all things I wish I hadn't tensed.

I miss clarity of every element desired,
The euphoria of cool fluxing air,
All things that long since cried,
And all things I now cannot bare.