Light is a shy tenant.
It pays the rent only when the sun is evicted.
The candle does not argue with the night.
It simply waits for the match to strike
a match between the dark and the flame.
A wick is just a string until the shadow gives it a reason to be a sun.
Suffering is the heavy curtain pulled back to reveal the stage.
We find the glow not in the peace.
But in the desperate necessity of the gloom.
No comments:
Post a Comment