I looked straight to the sun, and Light sent spears through my bones
I had lept from the darkness, and landed on a plane that kept me alone
They say Light is good, that the pain will end soon
But Light means hope, a witch who consumes
To hold Light too closely is to believe the lies he sells
To be convinced to fly all the while birds drop from the sky
His wicked illusions weave only endless corrections
A web that brings unholy tales of twisted surrections
I sit now with Light, considering the options
His hope is deceiving, but my time here is fleeting
If I should walk in his footprints, what stories might I see?
If I should step to the Shadows, what demons would I free?
A web of rays may lead to dismay,
but a tomb of darkness grants no thought of escape
Any beam that blinds can still bring peace of mind
And though Light plants seeds to brew poison,
His witching grows trees that battle corrosion
Yet, when Light proves to be the only direction,
I cannot bare to risk his connection
YOU ARE READING
With The Sun I Will Rise
PoetryCome along for the journey, let's see how this goes.
