I feel sick with the anger of the Sun's broken trust
I mourn with the Moon's lost friendship,
But through all that ****, somehow
keep shining as bright as the stars' will to bring light wherever dark may come.
(I will try)
Then come the skies of grey,
and I don't feel so brave anymore.
I become lost.
With a scattered mind and a sight clouded by fog.

Suddenly, there is light.
(Tiny, but true to it's cause.)
And I am somehow confused.
How can something so small...
So minuscule...
Brighten this seemingly never-ending blackness?

My bewilderment continues as this singular spark of hope keeps on flaming
With this rage. This powerful rage.
So strong, it's overwhelming.

I am unsure what this rage concerns,
but it does not stop.
Does not waver.
This pulsating passion.
It does not stop.
It will not stop.
I almost want it to cease, even though it has kept me
From fading.
From dying.