Blinding are the sun's sharp rays,

Your eyes, like that, they never shone,

And even if they had one day,

The brightness would be long past gone,

Without it you would have to face me,

You'd lose and then you'd lie alone,

Your blood would chill and dry alone,

Your bright red rose would die alone,

But that outcome hasn't happened yet,

Though it's not safe to say it never won't,

That pallid spark that is your soul,

Now you see it,

Now you don't