God's Light

“The lights are too bright,” I told a fellow man

And I sighed out of displeasure, he was blind the fellow man.

I sat on a stone that held up a body, a body full of light.

I sat on a stone that held up a body, a body full of light.

I held my breath for just a couple seconds to feel what struggle was

But struggle is certainly more than that when water fills your lungs.

It crept on me the visions I dreamed, not once did I know if it was real,

For dreaming can be done wide awake, the worst illusions can seem so trill.

I reached inside me and realized that the light had disappeared.

I searched the darkness, the void within felt like currents screaming fear.

I shriveled up, and swam up high, from below, to the yellow blaze.

Something sparked, and oxygen ventilated again through my veins.

So I sat on a stone that held up a body, the fragile weight was mine,

and I sat on a stone that held up a body, alongside was a man who had died.

“The lights are too bright,” I had told that strange man.

“Your light is just right,” he said, and vanished into the sand.