The light is on
Rain falls heavy from an inkblot sky
Eyes watch broken glass for secrets reflected
Hands caress age-dusted papyrus, seeking an answer
Blood falls fresh from a wound opened each day anew
Earth drinks deeply of the sanguine drops
Brief fire in the sky sets an aching heart aflame
A matchstick extinguished; a forest on fire
Voices on the wind speak soft magic
While the blaze climbs to scorch the dew-wet sky
A dead world is lost to ash and cinder
The light is off