Who is 'she'?

she wept between the desolate sky

as stars told stories ancient wide

she wove golden rays of sunshine,

that left everything she’d have touched

of nature's charming caress.

she’d have the sky painted pink

freshly every morning,

but nobody cared to see

which would leave her there mourning. 

for so she thought she wasn’t needed,

she could leave and not one would care.

but they’d just taken her for granted

for which she could not bear. 

her light was always there

but you’d never have known,

to ever thank the ground,

until you know how it feels to fall

or just how much you’d need to sun

until it doesn't rise at all.