The skies ignite, returning sight, the dawn will engineer. The morning sun, the day becomes, in flight upon our sphere. The roll of sunrise to the evening, twilit glowing range, reflects the colors of the globe, the fluffy clouds arrange. The striking beams and golden shafts impale the lands bellow, upon such light before the night, the moon begins to glow. The stars are mirrors of the past, which histories revolve, upon the mere perception of the space which they evolve.