Beloved was the Sun who brought Warmth and light upon the mortals. Many were the words of praise, Gifts bestowed in marble temples, Dwelling on the highest mountains, Drawing life from golden fountains. There resides the shining Sun, Charmed all by the lyre's strum.

The gift of light whom for all was, Failed to please one who was jealous. The Sun, he thought, was not deserved By all critters who roamed Earth. Thus, as a trophy on a shelf, He stole the Sun all for himself.

So the lonely being sat, Held captive by but a brat. Darkness all around had swollen, On the day the Sun was stolen.