Golden beams come from aloft
And bathe the world in pleasure,
As a blanket of blue ever soft
Envelopes emerald treasure.
Warmth a ball of fire brings
Amidst the balls of cotton,
Providing light for all things
As fears are left forgotten.
But when the beams do sink
Beneath the darkened blanket,
Across the emerald spreads an ink
That takes all heat around it.
Chill is brought by the unseen
Amidst that which was cherished,
As darkness reminds all again
Of what was thought departed.
Icy claws grip into souls
Whom attempt to replicate the lost light,
Noises now take their toll
As they consider their plight.
Until the golden beams return
To provide salvation from the dark,
And the cold which they do spurn
Until they again lose their spark.
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