I feel at times like a dark room
Full of possibility, promise, and a hint of threat
A match struck
and revealed in me something
I wasn’t aware I needed.
The red light seared my weakened eyes
And then I beheld it.
Dimension, volume, and purpose
And when it left
I’m left with more woe than was ever known before
As if light itself was always meant to be…
With just one flash it solidified my walls
threw away nebulosity
and because of that,
I can’t return to the void again.
Should I wait
Hold my breath and suffer
or am I subsisting on nothing more than a blank promise?
And if were to come another time
instead of merely beholding it’s quenching glow
I will find my own light switch
and shine the light that was always meant to be mine.