This is another form poem, called a villanelle. The form is pretty self-explanatory, but in case you don't catch it because I wasn't skilled enough, it's basically like this:

A1
b
A2

a
b
A1

a
b
A2

a
b
A1

a
b
A2

a
b
A1
A2

The fun stuff here is this: A1 is the same line, throughout the whole poem. So is A2, but it shouldn't be the same as A1, it just needs to rhyme with A1. All the lower case 'a's rhyme, as do all the 'b's - repetition here is optional. And the whole thing should be in iambic pentameter - or as close to it as possible.
I found this harder to get meaning out of than the sestina, so please forgive the fact that it got a little too high-brow. I keep having flashes of brilliance and replacing lines, so the whole thing will probably be different by next week.
Enjoy.

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We Will Not Be the Sun

We will not be the sun to end the night
To show you naked truth in waking dreams
Nay, better we should bring an end to light

Than let you leap into that final flight
Which has one end, but is an endless scream
We will not be the sun to end the night

And compensate in time for failing sight
For sight will fail, though angry eyes be seen
Nay, better we should bring an end to light

Lest you decipher left and wrong from right
And find the truths that wiser lives have gleaned
We will not be the sun to end the night

And take a chance that some fair morn you might
Awake, and understand why you must dream
Nay, better we should bring an end to light

Than cower from the truth when skies are bright
And be forever less than what we seem
We will not be the sun to end the night
Nay, better we should bring an end to light