Baskadia

Ode to the Sun

Oh hallowed Sun, that shineth upon rich and poor. Thy scorching heat our heads in pain. Will thou in mercy, reduce thy glow? That our skin be not consumed. You are like a god up there, shining on the strong and the weak. Thy glow, our greens to sprout. Will thou in kindness, give place to rain? That our yield be great at harvest. Oh thou milky way king, that rules the galaxy. Thy power is like a mighty furnace. That burneth the guards but spares the just. Will thou lend us thy strength? Oh hall