the light of day
Wandering the dark can be scary.
But the twilight is a beautiful place...
The shapes conceal,
the shapes reveal.
But,the light is harsh:
It strikes the eyes
It burns the skin
It strips disguise
It kills our kin.
The soft ideals we saw before,
The quiet peace we found in yore:
They shrivel in the burning fire,
Reveal our thoughtless, old desire.
It births from husk all hard and dry
Escapes its chrysalis to die.
No phoenix we to rise from ash
On waxen wings we burn and crash.
A hope, a dream, it dies in light
A twisted thing, it screams in fright
And whimpering, falls from the skies
And weeping fire, this day it dies.
But the twilight is a beautiful place...
The shapes conceal,
the shapes reveal.
But,the light is harsh:
It strikes the eyes
It burns the skin
It strips disguise
It kills our kin.
The soft ideals we saw before,
The quiet peace we found in yore:
They shrivel in the burning fire,
Reveal our thoughtless, old desire.
It births from husk all hard and dry
Escapes its chrysalis to die.
No phoenix we to rise from ash
On waxen wings we burn and crash.
A hope, a dream, it dies in light
A twisted thing, it screams in fright
And whimpering, falls from the skies
And weeping fire, this day it dies.