POV: You're the Sun

Warning: This poem may be triggering to people of certain religious beliefs

#SSC41

• :sunny: •

Look at them.

Small.

Pathetic.

Living with the casualties of life.

Life.

It means nothing to me.

Not anymore.

Not after what they've taken from me.

Once, and it was a very long time ago,

I was held by a hand that gave life.

He gave life to an orb, that would maintain life.

That orb has been named Sun.

But I, this Sun, is just a star.

One among billions,

Each slowly ticking towards our deaths.

Or are we?

His hands gave me life,

So why would He take it away from me again?

I know why.

Because He created more than just my life.

He created their life.

The life of the Earth.

The life of the Humans.

Those disgusting humans.

Thus, those humans became imperfect.

My light comes with shadows.

My coheart, the moon.

That cheese-head copy cat!

All it does is steal my light,

Making those humans awe in its glow!

What a lie,

The moon can not glow!

Every so often, the moon and I see one another.

The humans love our display,

But the interaction is pure hatred.

I shall never be as low as the moon.

For the moon,

for it is lower than they.

Lower than the Earth,

For whom I am forced to shine on each day.

All they do is take,

take, take, take,

And take some more of my glorious light!

Worship to the Sun does you no good.

Each of their days,

I am losing a little more of myself.

Chemical reactions, fizzle, and pop.

Slowly I deteriorate.

Their predictions are correct,

I will one day fade away.

I will disappear and leave The Earth all alone,

With that outcasted Moon.

Will I them?

Will I feel any pain?

Will I care that I have left them?

Will I wish something had changed.

No.

They don't deserve it.

They don't deserve me.

The Sun, created by the hands of He.