Children of the Mother Dark, the Mother Light
Born to grow as the river flows,
Sweet, deadly, O’ mockers of crows,
Born in slivers of flame, burning light,
Inevitable,
Dead by unholy night,
‘Ere thick dark,
They suppress the wind as they burn,
Blood, angst, depression rites,
They tip their heads,
Singing to their ashes,
Magic and torment contorted in dread,
Withered their dance,
Like decaying life,
Crawling souls, deathless prance,
Silence, thick and cruel,
Edge of noise,
Modulation of moonlight, Breath Fuel,
With the change of light, change of form, change of life?
Death’s children took flight,
Wings’ hurricane,
Reflection of misery,
The dark and light of the moons,
Screaming the awaking mystery.
                                                        ­  -**Firefly