The Rite

To live,

And love.

And fight,

I just might.

 

On nights

so dark

The stars,

Shine bright.

 

But lost are they

because Dark

hates Bright.

Yet, Bright waits

Not hates

 

Because in Dark

Lies a heart,

That belongs, to Bright

And one day the sun will shine bright

Dark will see just how,

The light Bright makes

Makes life.

And just a bit

less dark.

This poem is about: 
Me

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