Song of the Haloed Singer

Come with me, oh clandestine friend Staring at a child, caretakers sharpen the edges of her fatigue. Look at the wounds they keep running over— I hear they are a source of mystique. As they swarm around us, watch the fireflies Eating away the spot where my youth lies It must be forgotten but I let it linger Lit up by the song of a haloed singer. Fireflies love it when we reminisce All our days of bliss. When we carried around a burden as if it meant nothing As if it weren't our elders who should've held it While they showed us false prophets Fireflies love when we sing of youth lost to Judas knives And all the tragedies that become our lives.