Accenptance is the key by Me
The air is growing thick at the seams.
Imaginary grins and laughs dance free,
and in the bleakness they hang loosely.
They: so dependent on my existence,
like stars relying heavy on the night.
Only through darkness and fright
can they be seen illuminating skies.
So note the underlying parallel with I.
My soul intertwining with the dark,
my memories combining with sparks.
Some brightening with their aging,
some sucking joy into the unknown.
Those who brace each part with fear,
only observe the corruptiion that grows.
Those who brace each part with beauty,
know that everything has vastness.
Like the blackness I backpack gloom,
but without it you can't see the joy.
You can't appreciate the dazzling,
the stars and galaxies burning steady,
on an otherwise dank dreary evening.
Night does not cower behind the light,
it merely showcases the mysterious.
Without darkness you wouldn't grasp
the striking stars floating in my sky.
That is what sets us from the blind:
not what you see, but what you see.