1. White Light

It’s a weak sort of light,

So meek and unnoticed,

So dim, it limits my sight;

The darkness swallows me,

Feeds on my fright,

Waits for the day

To be swallowed by night,

To take away my flickering light

And when the night comes,

I feel a sting, a cold bite,

And my flame flickers, smokes,

Dims, then grows white,

But even if my flame hides,

And secrets itself in these nights,

In my eyes you will see always

These burning white lights

The End

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