Breaking Lights

She's been through hell, and the hell chases her,  
the way the light of the sun is chased from east to west.  
  
No one sees a ray run or asks the first light of the break of day    
if she needs to catch her breath.    
She does it by herself.  
  
At the height of the sun,  
by the corners of her eyes, she stares at the edges of her orange-yellow-studded world.  
There are no shadows.    
She breathes a few minutes.  
  
Another wave of shade creeps from under the horizon.  
The light you protect, you won't let them cover it, huh?  
  
It sometimes feels like a hamster wheel.  
No matter how far you run... Whether from dawn or to dusk,  
there's something behind you.  
  
People say the sun always comes  
because she repeats herself.  
Because she's made to repeat herself,    
reiterate that she's still here.  
  
It started unstable, but she's becoming the surest thing.  
You're becoming the surest thing we know.  
  
She's been through hell, and the hell is chasing her.  
But she's not a part of that hell, and she doesn't associate with it.