Joy At the Dying of the Light

At close of day, my wild spirit sprints away From the barren lands where shriveled creatures quake In fear that the night light might a desert make; But the silent stars that witness day's decay Gleam forever in a soft, heavenly way, As they look down on lizard, gecko, and snake, And all earthbound creatures that tremble and shake When the sun ceases to shine at close of day. But it’s when light stops shining that life begins, For in the dark, I must love myself or die (Too often I've sinned unforgivable sins); So I look past the fire round which the Earth spins, And seek out the stars behind day’s glaring sky, Because, in the end, the good night always wins.