Beneath the burning halo’s blaze,
He stands, a god of golden days.
The sun bends low to crown his brow,
A fierce, eternal, solemn vow.

His hair, a storm of gilded fire,
Each strand ignites with pure desire.
The winds of fate they twist and roar,
Yet he, unyielding, braves their war.

Adorned in armor, bright as dawn,
His every breath a cosmic song.
Gold clasps and bands that shimmer bright,
Hold secrets forged in ancient light.

A warrior’s heart, a king’s command,
The weight of suns within his hand.
His gaze, a furnace, fierce and true,
Pierces realms no mortal knew.

Around him swirls the ash of time,
A testament to deeds sublime.
In robes that flow like molten streams,
He shapes the world of mortal dreams.

O radiant lord, eternal flame,
No mortal tongue could name your name.
You blaze beyond where stars expire,
A god, a myth, the Sun’s own sire.