The Light Poem by William Mowell

I'm holding a ball of light in my hand
Should I cherish it or bury it in the sand
It's so bright its blinding me
Making it where I cannot see

This light is the meaning of life
And it will end all this strife
Let it free and it'll soar in the sky
Out of my hands, I'll bid it good-bye

The light comes back and gives me the gift
The most precious gift, Now I'm no longer adrift
The gift was piece of mind
Which many cannot find

The light finds the people that have lost track
Sends them the message, bringing them back