I feel sorrow when they speak of me in angst.
Despicable, detestable. Hated and feared.
Why must they fear what should bring them joy?
What doesn’t kill them, should help them grow.
Instead, they only play the pessimist!
When will they learn to embrace the light I lend them?
I take away their sorrows, yet they curse my name.
Such instances as these should never come to pass.
I once was just like them, struggling in sorrow,
But I learned to trust in the happiness that was given me.
Why won’t they learn of me or accept my love?
Does the blackened hate that my brother emulates
Blind them from the truth that is so near to their grasp?
It is astonishing how they can curse my name,
But will not so much as whisper his.
Why should they curse me?
I know the answer, but still it pains my heart to hear it.
So should the darkness cloud their eyes from the light,
I will brush away the fog and reach to them.
If only they would grasp my hand! I would lead them to safety,
Far from the sorrows of the night.
I would lead them to the light.