Daylight comes only to astound the night with all that the dark could be
And leaves the darkness insecure about his being so barren of affection
Day, having thus put shame upon this subject of his enmity
Had become the very object of his shame and his objection
And night then spoke: let day and setting sun
Boast of all that they hold dear and have made to be their own
Of all the stars that light the blackness of my soul, there will be none
To ever be the herald of the day; her company shall always be the splendour of herself alone
And that shall be her sole delight, yet mine will always be
The comfort of dreams, of hope and authenticity