Oh god this one.  I was in the process of writing this one forever.  I knew what I wanted to say for once, but I couldn't figure out how to get there.  I was stuck on the image of this cute little rodent-like creature who was, obviously, quite nocturnal, so much to the point that the day would bring pain rather than just drowsiness or other such trivial things.  Yet, this creature would be so fascinated by the day and so drawn to the day that it couldn't resist its deadly pull, hence the title, the yearning to be diurnal, or something you are not.  And so eventually this desire to be something you are not gets to the point where you begin to loathe yourself since you are not that way, and you stand ever on the brink of arriving at your sole destination but ever unable to quite reach it.  It's sort of a metaphor for that icky kind of love that just somehow doesn't seem to work out, kind of a parable warning of the dangers of trying to be something you aren't.  But I'm not quite sure it achieves all that so much.  I'm not so happy with this yet, so don't be surprised if it changes in the future....