When I was younger
I never would've dreamed
that the stars we see each night
were stills of you and me

Light never asks permission,
when piercing through the dark.
It rushes in with courage and pride,
and the unlit must disembark.

Dark doesn't pause for consent,
when slowly filling the space.
Touching and floating to every corner,
dampening every place.

These two things are forced to interact
just as you and me.
When time goes still and light recedes
will we be able to see?

A single lightbulb is held captured by the ceiling,
a lone switch to determine its fate.
Oh, how I bracket with that bulb,
and what it means to illuminate.

The sun has no off,
but the means to have it all.
I, however, am full of levers,
and choosing to let my light fall.

A single lightbulb is captured by the ceiling,
and unable to flip the switch.
Try though I might,
There's not enough light
for me to see you.

Take me to the lamppost
Where my heart goes to gleam

Replace the fire with the spark from the sea
See the way she radiates back at me

Take me to the lamppost
Where the light has dimmed

See what once stood bright and constant
now holding only things that became dark and exanimate

Take me to the lamppost
Where memories of the light

Try to hold on best they can
Though loss is drying, blurred in the mute sand

Take me to the lamppost
To what once was gold and blazen

Remind me of what used to be
Fire kindled through glass; and see!

Take me to the lamppost
Where I yearn to see the light

That was once within.