The Sun - Nadja

The sun is the man who wails over naked death

And cries cold tears onto the grey stone skin of the hills

The hills reaching to the sky to touch

Touch the sun that they might hold

Pull it down, consume and swallow the light

The sun is the man who bleeds into the ocean’s arms

And turns the waves to salt

Curling and crested with crimson foam

The waves reach out to the sky to hold

Hold the sun that they might hold

Pull it down, subsume and drown the light