Sparkbroker

What spark, in the dark
In disingenuous embers glows the face of a lost lover
Trickle in the feelings, feel the tickle of tears down your cheeks
It reeks of emotion,
And emptiness
Hollow the trunks of dead trees and empty the gust of dead breezes
Make real your imaginary friends
Make an army to fight the real demons
What shark, the dark body of water that last lets loose the dead dream
Eight days underground and the rhythm has you writhing
Light lights, the fire in your eyes
The trumpet tempers the flame in your ears
Too many fears are forgotten
Failed for nothing more than waking up the truth
What dark, if there is a spark?
But what spark?
Who spake?
The voice lost, not found in the failing fire of your final flight
What light?
Whose lantern burns deep in the dungeons and the damp, dying doom?
What room?
No doors to dream the passage breaks conscience, incites passion
Leaks lies
Eats dull razors with crooked teeth
Lights let liars see the lines in your eyes
The darkness harbours friends
The comfort of the unknown
So what light?
Fight!
Bring back the black!
The night will fall
And bring them all
Down
Down
Down
To me.