As darkness begins to fabricate,
The nocturnal blanket unfolds,
The soul grows colder by the hour,
By powers, the nighttime holds.
Eerie figments of man’s conviction,
Now dance upon the floor,
Frightening the nearby child,
Running for his parent’s door.
“Lo’ and behold the warding essence,”
Speaks the father to his son,
“Of nature’s resilient light,
Which for us the night is won.”
With a brilliance of a solemn spark,
And a puff of sulfuric air,
The once passive vessel of light,
Erupts into a stately flare.
Colors of red and hues of yellow,
Ignite with passion never seen before.
The blaze now grows grander,
As if written in supernatural score.
The conflagration now at its peak,
With scintillation of scarlet sear,
Emits a warm and soothing pyre,
To quell the youth’s daunting fear.
Aided now with his celestial beacon,
The child did so declare,
“Oh beings there above the mortal planes,
None finer is our fire, for us you faithfully spare.”
“The shimmers of peace between your wisps,
The strength and courage, which make men bold,
All dwell within this spirit,
Who banishes the dark and cold.”
The fierce yet shepherding burn of bright,
Thy beauty hath stolen my heart.
Your presence I shall surely summon,
Upon the daylight’s waning start.
This is an original work. Please cite if used.