Continuity Has Its Own Strains

Continuity has its own strains, A frozen life has so many pains, Rising early in the morning, Initially it was charming, Sometimes I desire, For the day entire, May be passed on the bed, The sun hot red, May sleep somewhere, And my lovely sphere, May be free of sunlight, And a moonlit night, With the bright stars, The tune of guitars, Of the wind may please, And pains may cease. And the dream of a world, Wherein whispers may be heard, Of a thirsty lover, And it may uncover, A war-less earth, And the peace its worth, Having love as its crown, White, black or brown, Being crazy in a tone, And sharing a throne, On a love stage, Having broken their cage, May sing together, And embrace each other. A change has its own charms, If it is too long I'm tired of the norms, The greed of heaven and fear of hell, May be helpful, useful and truth as well, If ending in wars and killings and hate, A slow-moving clock we must update. But I know it's a dream so let me sleep, A careless sleep, deep very deep, And ask the sun not to rise once again, Continuity of the sun is now source of strain.