O fleeting Hope!
To what shall I compare thee?
Thou art like a sunrise
glistening over the open sea.
I stand jarring at the junction between two worlds
each tugging this way and that.
Before me and behind me I am beckoned
and all paths I fathom are flat.
Behind is the moon,
lacking even its own light.
Though its comforts are abound
I look away to a staggering sight.
Shades of red and orange across the horizon prance,
a culmination of dreams they are.
They beckon the wayward into their delightful dance,
casting their light from afar.
Alas, the pale moon is gone;
but o the Sun!