Uranoleon

Through clouds rich the strips of orange sun flares,
as yesterday it has been a full sphere burning cumulus black,
through day passing that has seen it golden upon bluest blue,
to the pale and the fierce of depths across shades of vermilion.

Sky, adored sky,
like life,
beautiful because you're looking like that,
fascinating because you're never the same.

advocatus diaboli

There are no perfect men in this world,
only perfect intentions.
-- Pen Densham

He, the voice within who asks for perfection,
is he a friend or a foe?
He who frowns at the world's defects,
-- pained by them, rages at them --
he who demands a wholesome self,
is he for better or for worse?

She, the voice within who asks for perfection,
is she a friend or a foe?
She who judges poor-mannered folks,
-- pained by them, looks down on them --
she who detests indulgence in flaws,
is she for better or for worse?