Since when

Even Seether knows there's no need to screech; the sun reappears/reaps/repairs/spears.

Seether soothes her squintly lips with sun sips.

Its been...since ever when.

And the Dickinsonian oracle hails the golden orb:

Aurora is the effect
Of the Celestial Face
Unconsciousness of Perfectness
To simulate, to Us.
(E. Dickinson, 1002)