I can feel myself
slipping away.
I can feel myself fading
without delay.

I hold a lit torch
to save me from the dark.
I hear a nightingale
when I want to hear a lark.

I used to think that light
and dark were the same.
But now I know
that one is more tame.

Save me from the light
because all I know is the dark.
Bring me the nightingale,
and destroy the lark.