:PP

The sun, it shines.
A golden light, and so all is not lost.
Yet much runs in blood, the midnight streets,
lost for a cry of fear, a sweet disorder.
Like a ghost to my bed, it stands alone.
quivering peals of an echoing song,
a shadow of hate.
masked faces, blurred faces, they burn in bitter fashion.
Yet the sun, it shines.
and so all is not lost.