My brain: a fog.
The Night stands tall back against the Sun
The Orange Rim around the shadow burns.
Like a fiery border begging separation
But ever fusing the two orbs into one sphere.
The ball is shaded by a singly directed Star
Only One Star to light all things. No more night will be there.
When our Sun and Shield, our Grace and Glory,
Dwells within our midst, and will be within us.
My eyes, I see them red and blurry.
My vision fades in clarity and depth
From the smudges and foreign contaminants
That scrape the lens but for the tears of sorrow to cleanse it.
Since childhood the animal hair makes itch
When I rub my eyes for relief, I worsen
My eyes grow puffy and inflamed.