the sun

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
it so happen that while studying astrology, i came up with this poem.

Submitted: July 02, 2017

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Submitted: July 02, 2017



The sun came into being to do a job,

It doesn't get paid a dime or a bob.

Still, it labours daily,

From sunrise to sunset,

It hasn't stop yet.


 Just a huge ball of hot gas, spinning around

Most of it hydrogen, helium, carbon, nitrogen and oxygen.

Along the ecliptic it makes a silent sound,

It is there giving life to everything, while it's Milky way bound.


Some of the ancients worshipped it as ''God,''

Not knowing that one day it would dissipate.

They called it ''Lord,''

As it came through the Eastern gate.


There are stories that it twice rose in the West,

And settled down to set in the East.

They think it disappears, then manifest,

As a wild angry and hungry beast.


But little did they know,

That its turning and its glow,

Wasn't all for show;

It was to sustain everything below.

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