Should the lights be dimmed,
should the night be dark.
should I ever break
or claim to fall apart,
should my blood run cold,
should my tears run dry,
should I stop believing
that light in dark resides,
turn my face away
from the blackness of the sky,
twist my wide eyes back
from the lands on which I walk,
rip me whole from all of this
I have claimed to have disowned,
and then I'll burst to dust,
and then in light I shall explode,
and then I'll burn alive again,
then I'll be once more a whole.