Why do we celebrate the light,
That doth illuminate the flaws.
Those that are hidden in the night.
The darkness, wraps around and hides,
With its tarrish gauze.

Upon the surface calm they float,
Like summer ducks or mighty boats.
In that gentle light they see,
Everything,
Above.
That murky expanse, 
Where hurt, and problems lay.
As they float along in their,
Joyful.
Trance.

Unseen below, wretched creature,
Cloaked, and buried below.
Fires itself, a lacking feature,
Up.
Up.
Up.

Into the light we see it clear,
Ruining perceptions we held,
So dear.
Why do we love the light,
To me it is naught but a blight.

To hide our sorrow out out sight,
Is all we can do.

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