To Below From the Moon

March 16, 2008
I hang here shining my gay farewell
For my voice has no sound and my lungs cannot yell
To the ground far below me I should say unto thee
While the night is my master, please let me be

I do not herald the dawn nor leave with great flame
But am tethered to the night, and yet am to blame
My withering gaze calls forth terrors and thieves
I cannot help to flourish flowers and leaves

I light the path where the deep shadows are thin
Yet in the eyes of many, it is a battle one cannot win
My light may be weaker than that of the day
But imagine if you will, if I weren't to stay

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