The sun will still rise in the morning- 

It's so cliche

Coming up from the darkness,

Rising from the east...

She graces your toes

Your finger tips

Your cheeks

With her glorious kiss

One which we praise and bless

A presence which we can always rely on-

She is beauty.

She is light.

And she is life.

To the naked iris ... she is everything

She is perfection.

She is a star.

But the sun-

She is fueled with power

An anguish burning all around her

She falls-- frome her own demise.

She is the center of our life 

But she is just a star.

A bundle of gas

Constantly reacting within

Collisons of atoms

Her life holds ours within her grasp

And one day...

One day the sun will not rise--

Instead we will see her fall

All of what she is 

It will sir come her--

She will subside to the cycle of all other stars

And she will die.

The pressure-

The power-

The energy- 

It will be no more 

And she will cease

And you see --

The sun...

She is much like you and I

It's so cliche