The sun shines from the ceiling,
An incandescent globe of light.
It is a copy of true feeling,
Of the stars that shine so bright.
It blasts down energy and heat,
Mimicking the source of life.
The flickering marks its defeat.
Day is severed by lightning’s might.
[I know that this seems ridiculously pretentious, and it kinda is, but it was fun to write. Tell me what you think]
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