I am a torch in the twilight sky, 
a glowing orb that illuminates
sacred windows as you offer
evening prayers.  I reign
over the constellations as
queen of the cosmos.  Cassiopeia
ceases to adorn a diadem. 
Yet, I remain a sphere of silence,
quietly saturating the sleeping world
as the minutes of my soverignty
diminish.  The feverish world pushes
me aside, but I am coveted
by the exhausted multitude.
Shall I shine a bit longer?