The Song of the Sun

I cannot hear the song of the sun anymore
all stones are wrapped in iron chains
turning and churning
but captured.

I cannot hear the song of the sun anymore
deserted silver sands
freezing with blank indescription
nor hot nor cold not dry nor damp
not even the chafing of sand.

I cannot hear the song of the sun anymore
moonless midnight of hidden storm
skies clouded with grey forgetting
hunched up lonely under the blankets
listening intently
hearing absolutely nothing

I cannot hear the song of the sun anymore
and with every line that passes
the distance grows
inseparable, untouching
deaf and dumb and blind and numb
unable to hear the song
much less write a new one.

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