A million points of lightascending to the skystanding watch in the darknessuntill a sun will rise.Screaming to an emptinessof how we once defined ourselves,claiming all of creation,blinded by the hands over our eyes.What power inspires in us this madness,that our existence should be definedby a light that no one can see?What inspiries in us this madness,to base our existence  on that which we can't see?That which can't be seen?A million points of lightascending to the sky,archangles in the dark stand watch,untill the one will rise.Is this our definition of progress?I doubt how far we've come.We appear to ourselves as deities,claiming what nature has presented as our own.We **** everything, damning us as a devided race.Our actions betray, offering us blindness and stupidity.Can anyone see our self-destruction?No one seems to remember our existence,so very delicate_without the light we are but shadowswithout the light we are but dust.A million points of lightascending to the sky,the archangels watchuntill we ourselves fly.