A firefly gleaming through the dark,
Flying independently like a spark,
Seen by few,
Hastily it flew,
Scared and terrified,
Began to glide,
Chased by the beast,
For them became the feast,
Caught and ripped into pieces,
The light within ceases,
Because of their harshness,
Gets mixed with darkness.
She's a firefly.

You're the book that I read at night.
You're the flower that I water at night.
You're the poem that I write at night.
You're the movie that I watch at night.
You're the song that I listen to at night.
You're the game I play at night.
You're the snacks that I eat at night.
You're the art that I sketch at night.
You're the bike that I ride at night.
You're the pillow that I cry upon at night.
You're the moon that I talk to at night.
You're the star that I admire at night.
You're the air that I breathe at night.
You're the music that I compose at night.
You're the candle that I light at night.
You're the teddy that I hug at night.