i've never let go of your hand, even when you don't have the strength to hold mine

We barter a handful of memories,
for a heart full of sorrow.
As we have done for centuries,
future happiness we borrow.

We measure our capacity for love,
with a defiled metre stick of self-image.
Never trading with those they see above,
because what is already broken is difficult to damage.

There is not much that can compete,
with the feeling of being desired.
Once we lose it, we feel incomplete,
like a crossword puzzle being retired.

And with that pain left behind,
we forget the world right ahead.
Up in arms against our minds,
down-and-out, we feel dead.

Here comes another I refuse to trust,
lest my heart be crumbled to dust.
Yet when I caught her eyes,
all past wounds she did cauterise.

This time I say it true:
Bartered love - I hate you.

Light
Wages an eternal fight
Against the dark.

But hark!
For light simply fights with what it lacks...
But what does that mean if most of space is black?

If light travels at the cosmic speed limit,
Then how is it possible that darkness can beat it?

So don't believe your science teacher or your pastor,
Because the lack of light can travel a little bit faster.