The Sun that Blinds

In all of the presentational glamour
In all of the pristine shiny hope,
Your soul, sheer beauty in clamour,
Is fearful it is but a trope –
A metaphorical shimmer
In the transience of light,
Yet I see the pulse of the glimmer
Of those who are destined for flight,
But somewhere the gaze must turn
From the mirror and out to the truth
That you are blinded by your own Sun;
Seeking the adulation of others is proof
Of a pained and fragile denial
That all we all want is the love we are,
Seek outward no more and end this trial,
For the Sun that blinds is a beautiful star.

Copyright Kosmogonic 2018

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