My Light doesn't always shine brightly,
Like a candle in a tempest it flickers.
Akin to an inferno My Light can burn me,
But it chooses to cauterize my wounds instead.
As the darkness appears to meld to my flesh,
My Light show me that the darkness and I are seperate.
When I wind through the darkness of my mind attempting to escape,
My Light keeps the shadows at bay.
Like the sun itself My Light is always there,
Guiding me from becoming lost.
Should anything threaten My Light's like,
I shall defend it with my life.
For My Light means everything to me,
Without Her I would die.
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Comments about this poem (My Light by Brandon Doore )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(c. 600 BCE)
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