A hundred clouds decorate the heavens.
Dawn awakens upon Earth below.
A pink morning sky with brushstrokes of marmalade,
Clouds spin around majestic Angels
Who twirl on high in lavender robes—
And decorate the sky with a moon and a sun.
Motionless stars are the silent
Fireworks that illuminate the singing hills.
Awakening the sky is the fiery
Blood of the Sun,
Beating down on the face of Earth.
She blinds the world by
Enters into the houses
Of those dead for half a day.
And with only implied remembrance, no warning,
The Sun forcefully shakes them, wakes them from their
And very kindly she compels them:
Begin your daily doom.