The light

What a glow of enchanting light
that draws me thus at dead of night.
That gentle hum of flowing current
like soft stream in thick forest.

And like some wearied soldier-
from the desert of the night.
Craving sweet electric pulse and light
and drawn to that enticing bulb.
That stands by your bed side.

I move towards it at a dash
and rest over its sewn shade.
Fibres like a masking veil
of my bride of glowing golden light.

Having been warmed from dusk’s chill
and having stayed near you so long
I venture back to the night that I came
from. From that bleak and cold air.

But how I shall remember that
that light, glowing,
the electric hum, calling.
Calling me to enjoy it.
I am drunk, and elated on the light
like dawning sun from blackest night.

How I love you, you that brought me

And death.

For as I was leaving,
along the tall cliffs of your cream walls,
you slammed me.
Against the sun kissed sandy plaster.

What have I done to you?
Have I stolen your light?
Have I brought- into this temple of the sun
that cold unfeeling night?

Can I-
A fly,
not enjoy the light?


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