A Portrait of the Sun

High above the mountains nigh,
a G-type star doth freely fly.

Gazed upon by generations,
base of all our calculations.

What is this being of such majesty?
Is it merely a cosmic travesty?

Shining down on all of life,
it sees the good, it sees the strife.

And then, and then, in 2010,
when the solar cycles began again,

The Sun, in all its glowing glory
Rained down fire, end of story.

Every once in a billion years,
A star just busts; its fabric tears.

We all saw it coming; all of us knew.
We saw the melting of the solar glue.

How droll. How shallow. How pedantic.
How arbitrary, how unromantic!

In 2010, the sun exploded.
Like an old toy truck, wires corroded.

In 2009. In 2008. In 2007 we saw it coming.
The Simpsons, the longest cartoon running.

That should have been the biggest giver.
The hugest clue. The bite-size sliver.

For when a T.V. show does run,
for twenty years and ten plus fun,

The sun can't hold the patter of feets.
It can't sustain the assorted red meats.

Because, as we all know, the sun is a vegan.
It can't eat ham-blasted deep-fried raisins.

And that, dear reader, is why the sun went boom.
Not because of you, drive C was out of room.

Hard drive, disk space, storage and bandwith,
It doesn't change a thing when the sun wants a sandwich.

'Cause when the sun gets angry at the lack of tater tots,
No amount of pilot lights can quench its solar blots.

Sea life, plants, animals and rocks,
When the sun comes to town, nobody talks.

Deep down every form of effervescent lifeform
Knows the time of day is more than a heated snowstorm.

It's an ancient process, young one, that few can understand.
And even less can comprehend the quiescent demand.

But believe me when I say to you I didn't ever think
That after tens of nano-years the sun could ever sink

To such a level of sheer malice and unrequited spite,
That it would pose a challenge to the Templar's bestest knight.

Who else could fight it? The Moon fight the sun?
Ha! The Moon is a coward. No, the knight's the only one.

Have at it! The sun must not defend!
Harry right! Harry left! Oh, why can't you comprehend

That deep beneath its burning exterior beats a heart of gold.
Under all the fiery demonspawn lurk treasures never told.

How could the sun play StarCraft? It doesn't even pwn
The n00bs on BattleNet, so how can it mow the lawn?

The sun wouldn't even think to mow the lawn this summer day.
Its solar core about to breach, it doesn't know the way.

The way to where? And why should I care?
And who will join the fray? And why is there

A starship there, to take the sun away?
Starship? No. It cannot be. That thing is made of clay.

But nice try, though. Good effort. Another point for you.
And thanks for taking my thoughts away from melting solar glue.

Yes. The sun. Those foolish fools and their Templar knight
And their solar glue and their starship flights.

Why can't everyone just see the sun is getting kind of mean?
It used to be a real nice guy, emitting shiny sunbeams.

And now, against the clock, with time to spare
ten more seconds 'til the end of the square,

Which is good, since the square is the sun's worst foe.
Have been foes since the days of Poe. When he stubbed his toe.

And then, and then, in 2010,
The Templar's knight took his revenge

Against the sun, and also the moon
But not before the two hired a goon

To knock the knight right off his horse,
And fall he did, his landing coarse.

And like the knight, our very future
Was in desperate need of suture.

The sun, together with the moon at last?
It couldn't be. Their time was past.

We can live without them both.
Just pull out some powdered toast.

"To be the ones in charge of bread
Will do our people good", I said.

To not depend on moon or sun
For blankets woven, stories spun,

Will be the best gift ever given.
2010, Templar risen!