The little kings and queens of darkness
Bless you with their hands
Empty hands
But do not take the blessing
Unless you understand
And consent to it
In constant night
See only
By the artificial light
And so called friends give you a candle
That will be your sun
Twenty-nine cent sun
And you're thinking it will warm you
Wrapped in dreams the spider stung
You commit yourself
To endless light
You have burned out truth
With your artificial light
Blinding artificial light

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