Golden god in the endless blaze, You light the path, you count our days. But you're no savior—you're a cell, A searing orb, a gilded hell. We dance around your burning heart, Tied by chains we call "the start." Warmed by fire, blind to doom— We orbit inside our solar tomb. Solar tomb, radiant lie, Coffin in the open sky. Your warmth deceives, your flare condemns— A cage of light with molten ends. You’ll swell, you’ll scream, you’ll take it all— And we’ll still praise you as we fall. You eat your young, you forge their bones, In fusion’s fire and spectral tones. But every flame must starve someday— Even stars must waste away. You gave us breath, you’ll take it back, On wings of flame and solar crack. The Earth will boil, the sky will bleed, And still we’ll beg to serve your need. There is no escape. No shadow deep enough. No cry loud enough. No prayer clean enough. The Sun is not our god… It is our sentence. Solar tomb, final shrine, Eater of the grand design. Your light, a curse we dare not name— A death foretold in golden flame. We die as we began—consumed, In firelight, within your womb. Ashes to photons… Dust to light… Entombed in brilliance… Forever night.
