In heaven there is no sun,
So tomorrow’s another sun-day,
Waking up our faces to face faces,
And many suns on many ways,
And our many ways of being faceless.
An emperial edict for new rivers is set,
Because face-full worlds,
Requires faithfull hands,
Demanding to be clean,
After what our faces had seen.
The empire of the order of the see,
With bishops of the lost memories,
Following rivers,
Following killers ; the mundane,
Running from death,
Drowning their faces,
To be washed,
To be blurred,
By a scene.
There’s a sun in this world,
That hit us,
Because it’s jealous from the sun that shines from our heart,
There’s no sun in heaven,
Because it shines from our hearts,
Because the real one,
Doesn’t shine from the sky,
Nor the east,
And in hell we’ll miss the coldness of the fake sun,
Of this world hitting us since three,
Our faceless faces,
And in heaven we’ll miss the warmth of it,
Beyond trees , on our hands,
That hit our loved ones faces once,
And once again,
The sun standing behind our portraits,
The sun that never asked to be seen once,
For there’s endless balls of it up there,
Yet she tried to reach us,
Hit us,
Pain us,
But faced faithless faces instead.
I lay my head on a smile,
In heaven there is no sun,
As i go to dream vividly,
Not having to think about anything,
In my dreams there’s a sun.
zaki monzer 