I shot the sun

out of the sky. A bent arrow,

my elbow, I stood

before Helios.

Hydrogen and helium hell burned too bright and fell.

D

R

O

P

I only opt

for the crush and pop

of eternal strife.

This poetic fraud,

gadflies stand

before power

finite.

A birthright only shined at night for fear of light.

Don’t fool yourselves into thrones

you’ll never hold.

Locked sun-gods

you never were

but did revere

as they rode chariots and burned earth.

Break,

break,

br-ache.

Dancing satyrs prancing

around dirt funeral pyres.

There’s a lyre screeching through the darkened sky.

B U R N

BRR-

URN!