I was his light
But I sparked a downfall
I was the moonlight
Glimmering off the broken glass
Clutched
In his shaking hand
I was the light of the flame
Born from the small yellow lighter
That warmed the glass
Against his musical fingers
And the light
That melted the pixie dust down
In the form of hell
In a syringe
I was the light
Shining through leaves
On that fall day
And falling in a dappled pattern
Against her skeleton frame
And scarred skin
The light off that glass
Became red and blue sirens
The light from the flame
Made his eyes wide
And his life wild
The light through the leaves
Became the light
Shimmering off
Her broken tears
I am the light
Beckoning them forward
And holding them together
