Why can I only seem to create poetry at night?
Does the darkness inspire me more than the light?
The one that never fails to bright and warm up our lives...
Why did I still seem to love you euphorically
After your floating words that hurt me like knives?
Ones so sharp they blinded me and kept me from seeing all your lies

But now I seem to be understanding...
You were the darkness in my life that inspired me,
You were the darkness that got me writing
Using words so honest, they make me feel alive,
You are the memories that still get my heart going,
And despite the total lack of light and the pain you left in me
You are the only one who still has me on my feet, firmly and standing.

And as long as you linger in my heart, deep and close to my soul, I will be writing at night
Today and forever as I might...